Trade-Up
by Finlaure13
Summary: Things had not been right between them for a long time. And Auggie's coping mechanism is to distract himself from the wrongness of things he doesn't want to address. Now, a huge hole in his life, Auggie has run out of options to distract himself any more.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first attempt into the world of FanFiction. I was prompted and given great idea-bouncing reception by some awesome Ladies: bridgestocross, ZooMomma, Andrejia, and a special thanks to cherithcutestory2 for pulling me in and then reading it first. I own none of these characters, only my dreams they play in.**

Trade-Up

None of this was right. It hadn't been right for a long time. If ever.

Auggie sat back in his chair. He'd come in to work early, too early, really. There was minimal activity in the halls, the DPD was almost empty, and Auggie's office sat silent around him. He'd meant to fire up his computer for the past ten minutes, but the concentration he needed to perform such a simple task was unattainable because every neuron was screaming her name.

He'd tried to distract himself with Hayley. God knows he'd gone down that road before. He was a pro at distraction. It made him a great CIA agent. It hadn't worked so well in his personal life. It had especially not worked after Tikrit.

At first, when he had come out of rehabilitation, supposedly prepared to meet life without his most important bodily sense, he was afraid to even contemplate a relationship. To bring baggage like bombs, death, and blindness into a relationship was unfair. He didn't need to subject anyone to that. Self-pity deluged any thought of a relationship.

When he had reestablished himself with his neighbourhood as a blind man, he found himself spending time with alcohol at a jazz bar three blocks from his apartment. On his third evening of losing himself in the buttery tones of the music and the shots of Patrón, he felt a warm essence slide in beside him. He turned, his face questioning the interloper. She leaned close and touched his knee. It had been too long. He was too inebriated. It was inevitable.

She was indifferent to him the next morning when she dressed to leave. He was torn between wanting her to be into him, and being afraid of the rejection that was sure to follow. Four times he woke to her gathering her things and leaving. He stopped letting it happen, thinking about what it was he wanted. Before… Before, he'd wanted to marry, to have kids. Natasha had not wanted that. She'd been so wrong for him in the whole end-game. But she was exciting and brilliant and beautiful, and all that had driven him to go past the line that had been set before him. When it all turned sour, the only thing that he did was run away, distract himself with another mission.

Auggie realized that he wasn't going to be a top catch. He had been cocky before, the twinkle in his eyes carrying his thoughts and flirts directly to the woman of choice. Women had teased him, running their fingers through his loopy brown hair, enjoying his smile and his sly wink. He used to be able to pull a woman from across the room. Now, he had no idea who was out there, whether they even saw him, and how to get their attention. He knew his white cane threw out red signals: Dependent! Incapable! Cripple! It frightened some people. They felt it wrong to even touch it. They didn't want to know anything about blindness, it scared them. If something so frightening could happen to him, it could happen to them. If they ignored him, then they were safe.

So there went many of the eligible women. Women like Renée, who laughed after he bought her drinks all night. She had actually said it out loud, that she couldn't possibly get involved with a blind man. It was a punch to his soul, to his masculinity.

Women became a test after that. How could he snag them, how could he take them home and prove he was no cripple. And yet, proving anything would mean nothing, because he'd given up on himself. He would not need to face disappointment if he brushed it all off, walks of shame and all. If he left first, it would mean he wasn't hurt.

He never used his blindness to woe women. That only brought in the worriers and the nurse maids, the stifling ones that would impede his every move, wanting to be at his side, thinking they had to help. He shot the coddlers down before they could suck the life out of him. If he didn't want to be blind, he sure as hell didn't want to play it up into its own show.

And so Auggie, in his distractions, became almost fun. He gave up on real feelings. He made light of his blindness to distract anyone uncomfortable with it. He worked hard and made himself respected at his job. Most nights, he went home alone. Other nights, he'd make bets with some of his colleagues from work on who would make the best moves at the bar, and somehow find himself an attractive chauffeur to get him back to his place.

And then _she_ came along. He'd almost not even noticed her lack of embarrassment and discomfort when she found out he was blind and learned the techniques he used for guiding and orientation, because she'd made everything so _normal_, so _unimportant_, so _regular_. She'd told him she found him "mesmerizing". That he impressed her more than anyone she'd met in the building. And not in a pitying, cloying way, but as a real, genuine admiration that came so purely from her.

When he ran into Natasha again, he almost tried to get everything back. He wanted the comfort of someone who knew how he was. Before. He almost pushed her to choose him Almost, because, in the end, his blindness cursed him, and he could not follow her. She was already gone before he couldn't feel her beside him anymore. She wasn't going to come back. He was left behind. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.

Except Annie had not left him behind. Not ever. Not until now.

He dropped his head down into his hands, letting his palms push into his eyes, trying to release the pain that thinking of Annie brought to him.

He'd left her. He'd left her behind and ran to Parker. He hadn't seen the look on her face, the one he now knew had been so plainly written in her eyes right in front of his own.

And where had that gotten him? Parker ran away, too. She didn't trust him, she said. He'd lied. She'd never even brought up her doubts about marrying a blind man. He joked a lot, to make her open up. She let it slide. He never knew if it was a part of her reasons to go, but he suspected that it may have been. She knew he was capable, he had never faltered there. When his capabilities grew into CIA-proportions, it was too much. Maybe she had wanted less?

Annie. He'd always come back to her. When all else failed, he dialed her number. Even if only to say goodbye.

The most important one in his life, and she left the biggest hole when she wasn't there. And it left him distracting himself again, hoping the pain could be buried in someone else's scent, someone else's touch, someone else's voice. But all he could think of was Annie.

He brushed it off. They were fine. Everything was all back to normal. And it was. But it wasn't. He used to know when she was there. The instant she was near, he felt it. He'd never explained it, never knew how to. It was a combination of her scent, her "warm, fuzzy aura", as he thought of it, and her footsteps with their hurried and deep pace. He never had been wrong and even that made him angry now, because now, he couldn't feel her at all. It was an empty space. He used to be able to see all of her beauty that poured from her soul to him, and he couldn't see any of it because it wasn't there.

It stuck him as poignant. The one woman that took over his every fibre of being over the rest was the only woman that had no face. It was slightly ironic now, in a way. She had become almost faceless after her mission to take down Henry Wilcox. But of all the important relationships he had had, the ones that he had set his hopes into, the ones that had ripped him apart more than any other, she was the only one he'd never laid seeing eyes on. Billy had had pictures of his sister, of his whole family. Auggie used to lay and listen to stories from Billy while looking at the dark-haired young lady in the photos. He remembered some of her features when he made love to her. With Annie, he imagined and coaxed his seeing mind to picture her, but in the end, she was Annie. He didn't need to put a face on her.

She had guided him without fear, with pure protection and love, she had laughed at his blind jokes, she had accepted him without qualm, never forgetting his one huge infallibility and never letting it be one. He was not broken. He did not need fixing. She saw what he was trying to show himself: that he was a better man now. He'd learned so much about empathy, about patience, about strength. She told him how much she respected him for these things. They were gifts given to him to balance some of the disability. He had traded up, when it came to her. He had given up his vision and received an incredible person, an incredible life, and somehow, they'd almost worked to make it not work. He was exhausted. He was devastated. The empty hole that had been his sight was nothing compared to the empty vast hole where she used to be.

And now, he'd distracted himself into a place he had no right to be. He was messing with two people's lives that were not Annie. He didn't know whether he was working them, or they him. He had feelings for them both, for one he hadn't loved yet, and for one he had and who had changed his life in wonderful and terrible ways. He wanted to not care. But the only thing on which he could set his every waking thought, the thing he worried about the most, the thing he loved, was always, and ever would be, Annie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks, kind folk, who read, and a special tip-of-my-hat-thanks for those who reviewed and followed my first chapter. You know the score, I only own my dreams, but no part of the Covert Affairs TV show or characters.**

CHAPTER TWO

Auggie wearily pulled the door closed behind him and flipped the lock, exhausted from a full day of tracking a weapons shipment across Guatemala, and trying to direct a cocky operative to a successful hand-off. Eric Barber had practically tip-toed around him all day; at one point Auggie's nerves nearly pitched him sideways when he thought himself completely alone in the office, and then Barber spoke up right beside him. The poor man apologized with abandon and headed out early when the opportunity arose, leaving Auggie to his own company.

Auggie collapsed his cane as he headed to the credenza and then put it and his messenger bag down, pulling out his phone. He stopped, his fingers raised over the screen. He had to fight not to call. He could not call. She had said she wanted out, she had said she needed to separate all feelings from her job. Auggie sighed, putting the phone down in the tray. All feelings from her job, or all feelings from her life, like he'd heard in her voice. He had wanted so badly to be able to just… move on. And the first woman that seemed objective, he'd decided to woo. Challenges seemed to be his strong point, and this one, this high-powered, take-charge personality was a challenge. That was obvious from the minute he had been ordered to sit back down and finish her questioning. She called when she wanted him, she stopped in when she wanted him, and at first it intrigued and unsettled him. He was not used to _not_ being in charge. In fact, the whole notion kind of scared him. Every time he felt like he'd lost control, it was that whole _Iraq_ thing again. If only he'd been able to keep everything in place, his men would not be dead. He would still be a man who could see. He didn't want to go there, and losing control, now, when he finally had managed to order things around him enough to live again, took him down fast.

Annie was in his care, and he'd lost control of her in his life. He never controlled her, Auggie knew that. She was as independent as they came, but he still was the one in her ear, the one she came to with all her questions, from both out in the field, and within her own real life.

Tash had split. She'd always left when she was threatened. This time, the threat wasn't prison or the FBI, although that had been the bigger picture. The threat was another woman that Auggie had refused to break up with. He'd tried to explain about the danger that breaking up with Hayley would do, but Natasha's temper had flared and when he returned home that night, she and her stuff were again gone into a void.

He'd loved her. He'd loved her so long ago, and he knew he would always love her, but how he felt about her in his life was different now, and only because he'd now had such a pure, synced relationship with Annie, which he'd never felt so honestly since he was blinded. There was no pretense or awkwardness at all, there never had been. Tash had been the girlfriend of a sighted man, and these past few times, she was unsure what to say, what to do, how to help, and just about killed him several times just by her mere effervescence. She had made him laugh, and he wanted that again. He couldn't laugh with Annie anymore. It felt too forced. There was too much to discuss and they never had, and it hung there between them every time they were in the same airspace.

She had told him in no uncertain terms that she needed to step away. She never said she didn't love him. She never said she would move on. She never said goodbye. And that, Auggie thought to himself, was why he couldn't stop going over what she _had_ said.

It had been two weeks since Natasha had left. Hayley was being _managed_. At least, he hoped so. He would hate for any of this to come back to ruin Annie: the secrets, the cover-ups, the questioning. He was not going to let Hayley break his shield he had set up for Annie the day he had given her his private number. He would not let her go down. He put her first, always had, always would. He'd never leave her behind.

He needed to put her first.

And she wanted to distance herself.

He could beat his head on a wall for years trying to figure out that conundrum.

Was he missing something? She had tried to come to him a couple of times since. And he had been trying to make his life his own again, had been trying to get over her with someone else. But she was there. What had she been doing there? He forced his mind to dissect what she had said, how she had said it. Had she touched his arm? She always made that connection with him; it was her way of making eye contact with him. But he could not see her face. She could have lied and said anything, and had he seen her face, he would have known. He knew he had missed the signals in the first place because she kept her silence and he could not see her whole soul painted across her features in front of him. It made him feel stupid and ignorant. How could he figure any of this out if he missed all the clues? In some ways, she made everything visual meld into something he could see in his own way. But in her emotions, so many times, she kept safe from his other senses and covered them with lighter words. If he had paid attention, or maybe it was if he had let himself think it, he would have heard the feelings she had in her voice, and felt it in her constant assuring touch.

How many more women would promenade through that door and sleep beside him in his bed? Probably many. He didn't want to connect with any of them any more. He had connected with Annie in too many ways to go back. And without that connection now, he was adrift, but he didn't care. Dangerous territory, he knew, and yet, he couldn't stop heading in that direction. There was only one way to slow it down, one way to stop it.

And somebody had to start.

Why, then, was it such a huge obstacle? Auggie had huge obstacles facing him every day, and each of them, while daunting, had no consequence like this one. Annie had disappeared, and as much as he looked for her, he could not find her. Even when she stood beside him in Joan's office she was not there beside him.

He snapped his fist down on his counter and then ran his hand down his face, heading to the fridge for a beer or something stronger. When he got there, the whole apartment met him, hemming him into its silence, it emptiness, and he felt too overwhelmed to stay. He collected his cane, keys, and bag and headed back out the door. He could not take himself to drown his empty heart with anymore liquor or women. He turned left and started walking, letting the familiar sounds around him and the steady tap of his cane lull him into some safe place where he didn't feel hollow. He was carrying around the feeling of the night in Hong Kong when, out of desperation to make some sort of connection, they had gone out to eat and talk, and only barely attempted either. Even after Paris, after they hashed some of the latest stuff out, they weren't past any of it. But there were moments, he felt them, just moments, when he heard her voice in her laugh, or a brighter tone to her conversations. He wasn't going to let himself hope, but every time he really _heard_ her behind that wall she'd built, he felt something like sunshine inside his chest.

He didn't know where she was now. He knew she was on U.S. soil because he'd just gotten her there yesterday, but he had yet to speak to her. Had he known where her safe house was, he may have been foolish enough to head there. He needed to do something now. He needed to either get her out of his life, or bring her back fully into it some way or another. There was no third choice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Aww, you guys are sweet. So here you are, as my thanks for being so supportive. A little good lovin' for Joan. As usual, I don't own Covert Affairs or it's characters, just my dreams they play in.**

CHAPTER THREE

Auggie counted stops as he sat near the front of the bus, in case the driver forgot to alert him when his stop came. He'd come this way before, he wasn't worried about getting lost. As he got off the bus, he moved out of the way of other pedestrians getting on or off, and then he turned on his phone.

"Hello, Auggie. What is it?"

"Are you at home? Is Arthur there?"

"I am at home, and no, Arthur is still at the office. At least, he _said_ he's still at the office, and I can only hope he is. Where are you?"

"I'm two streets away."

"Well, by all means, it's just me and Mac here hanging out."

Auggie smiled as he ended the call. He oriented himself in the proper direction and started off down the sidewalk, his nerves tweaked, his emotions deadened, yet heightened, his head obviously too fetched up with thoughts. He had to stop twice and re-orient himself as he went off-kilter, and that didn't usually happen anymore. He reached the end of the sidewalk under his cane tip and turned ninety degrees, down the street that would take him to the Campbell's house. He counted driveways and just as he reached their house, he heard Joan call out to him. He walked carefully up her drive and found her walkway and the steps.

"Come on in, Auggie. Someone is up and in a good mood."

Auggie smiled, smelling freshly washed baby scent all around him. He stepped inside and closed the door, waiting for Joan to touch his hand to guide him to somewhere to sit. She took him to a rather comfortable easy chair, and as soon as he'd folded his cane and set it on his lap, he felt Joan lean close.

"Here. You should probably get to know Auggie, Mac. You'll want to be connected to the world, and Auggie knows everyone. Auggie? "

Auggie, in a daze of surprise, somehow ended up holding onto the wriggling baby. He turned his face to Mac and smiled. He'd wanted children, but he hadn't had one in his arms in a long, long time. He couldn't even remember when it was last he'd held a baby. Was it before he was blind? Had he held any babies without being able to see them? His heart fell a little, until Mac cooed. Auggie grinned. Babies were still babies if you couldn't see them. They still cooed and squirmed and hiccupped and slept with their fingers curled around your own. They still cried and screamed and laughed and learned, whether you could see them or not. Auggie carefully moved his arms so that the baby lay safely enfolded and then reached up gently with his right hand until it found the top of Mac's head. He lightly fingered the baby's soft wispy hair and then brushed the edge of his hand down Mac's chubby, velvety cheek.

"He's smiling right at you, Auggie." Joan said softly, a smile broad in her voice.

"What can I say, I'm a natural," Auggie said, as seriously as he could. The baby responded with a raspberry, which brought a bright smile to Auggie's face.

Joan's laughter quieted into a look of content, seeing her friend and her baby together. She would never actually tell Auggie how much she cared about him. He knew it. He knew she had always been in his corner. She had, when she met Arthur, felt that he had used Auggie poorly in his games of chess. Auggie wasn't some crazy thrill-seeker. Auggie was a brilliant mind, and an eager body. Joan had seen that from the start. Auggie was a good manipulator, but he was a better secret-keeper. He could fool a lie-detector without fail. And then The Puma happened. And Helen happened. And Natasha happened. And then Iraq happened.

Arthur had felt bad. She knew it, but he couldn't talk about it. He never really told her anything about how he felt. His attitude toward Auggie afterwards had been stand-offish. Business-like. He didn't try to understand or know how things were now. He left that to Joan. He had given her the go-ahead to bring Anderson back in as head of her tech-crew. She knew Auggie impressed him, and yet, he'd never really given Auggie the dues that he'd deserved over the past years.

Joan herself had let her own guard down around Auggie. She accepted there was a different way of interacting with him, and she'd become closer to him, even letting her feelings and worries out so he could give her advice. She didn't have the same relationship with him as with any of her other members of staff. He was her man; he was the one she could always bounce ideas off. He was the one, after reading Annie's file, she would choose for this team that, if it worked, might be the best thing that came out of the DPD. And it _had_ worked. It had worked in every way possible. Until it stopped working. So many things had broken. She saw the huge distance between Annie and Auggie, who had previously been able to read each other's minds, they were so in sync. She'd noticed lately that the awkwardness and the gentle dance around each other had diminished ever so slightly. They were both trying. Joan had no time for this. She put them back together, sent them out in the field to see if they still worked together, and results were had. The bad guy talked, Auggie was Annie's handler again, and they were back on their game.

Except Auggie was sitting here, with her baby in his arms, not knowing what to start with.

"You have a report?" Joan asked, knowing that was a decoy question.

"No." Auggie stopped. He took a breath and turned his head, his face a puzzle of confusion. "Does any of this make sense? I mean, with Annie?"

"Do you mean Annie, or do you mean with _you_ and Annie?" Joan moved over and sat on the arm of the other chair close by, waving at Mac as he reached out both arms to her.

"Annie, us, I don't know. It's like, Henry flipped a switch on her. She was so much different. She laughed and was close and she could be boisterous. And… we were good. We were good and then we weren't. And I have no idea how that happened. She left. I know I…" Auggie rubbed circles into the chest of Mac's fuzzy blue onesie. "I messed up. And then, when I was in Hong Kong… we couldn't talk. Like, at all. She was gone then, I couldn't find her."

"You miss her," Joan said softly.

"I do."

"How do you really feel, Auggie? I mean, are you being honest with yourself? Especially with this… civilian? And then Hayley?"

"I'm using Hayley—"

"And I agree with that, Auggie. But your intentions truly were unclear to both of them."

"I was alone."

Joan leaned over and put her hand on his arm. "What do you truly want?"

"I want Annie." There was a silence. "But when she came back… I told her we were okay. That we were good. I meant I wanted to start over. I had wanted to say more, I had things to say." He dropped his head. "There are always things to say. They just never seem to get said." He brushed the baby's cheek again, as Mac began to fuss. "She'd already told me that she couldn't be close to anyone any more. She'd already shaken me off. I had been waiting four months for her to work her stuff out and she came back with that."

Mac let out a whelp, as if to punctuate Auggie's frustration. Joan lifted him out of Auggie's arms and Mac calmed back into a happy gurgling baby. Auggie pulled himself to the edge of the chair and leaned his head into the palms of his hands with his elbows resting on his knees. "I was lonely. I retaliated that same old way as I retaliated against being blind. It didn't work for me then and it sure hasn't worked for me now. And now, I don't know, she's so far away from me. I have kept all my promises to her, I begged her not to go off the way she did. I backed her and I supported her. And she doesn't want any emotional attachments. I could almost see her in the dark, Joan. And now," Auggie shook his head, his mouth a grim line, "I don't see her at all."

"I actually agree with you, Auggie. That fire that was in her seems gone. Now it's a burning drive, without the spark."

"Yeah. I could feel her looking at me with that spark. Now, I don't know what I feel. Disappointment? From her, as well as me. Maybe I…" He stood, needing to pace, then feeling awkward because just moving to cross the room involved so many actions. He stopped and turned towards mother and son. "I didn't over-read her, did I, Joan? I mean, I felt like she meant it. I felt so much from her." He wasn't sure what Joan was thinking, how she was reacting to his obvious anxiety. He waited a moment, and then raised his hands in a signal of defeat. "What do I do? I'm having a hard time moving on. I waited for her. I feel like I am still waiting for her."

"I can't tell you what Annie's going to do. I can tell you that I see she is just as conflicted as you are. And I can tell you that she has begun to look you in the face again. And I can tell you that I have seen that same look on her face when she does look at you as she had when she met you. I can't tell you that it's going to be okay, Auggie. And time, well, time seems to just keep going without anything getting better, but I think you are doing the right thing by protecting her and us from Hayley, and, if you are serious, ditch the civilian."

"Already done. She ditched me." He grinned half-heartedly. "She couldn't deal with a blind boyfriend, turns out."

"Uh huh," Joan said, eyeing him. That was rarely the case; Auggie was more capable than many men with 20/20 vision. "Well, be patient with Annie. I see her coming around. She's not telling us something, Auggie, and that may be a big part of it."

Auggie let his cane drop open, carefully retracing his steps back to the entry. Joan followed with the baby bouncing in her arms. She opened the door, putting her hand on his arm.

"Auggie. I'm here for you or Annie any time. Just promise me you won't do anything rash. Annie is in a precarious place, and we need to be the support team she falls back to when she decides she is not alone."

Auggie nodded reluctantly, turning and stepping down the stairs. Joan watched him make his way to the end of the drive, find the edge of the curb, and head back up the street. As she listened to the steady rhythm of his cane, she felt sadness. All that Auggie had given to the CIA, everything he had managed to arrange, pull off, and successfully close, had brought him loneliness, exhaustion, and blindness. And yet, he would give more, if it meant keeping Annie safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, for this being a one-shot deal, I guess persuasion is a pretty strong incentive. I thank you all for sending me such awesome reviews, hence the one-shot being four chapters now. I just keep getting deeper and deeper in Auggie's soul, I just want to flesh him out as much as I can outside his role in tech-ops and as Annie's handler (and more than just a handler), in the life he leads and how his mind works. Thank you BIG TIME to my CREW for all the talks that inspired so much of Auggie's inner turmoil and outer-RW interactions. You guys rock, this one's for you! **

**Oh, and I don't really own Auggie, but I like to think maybe he owns me. **

CHAPTER FOUR

He'd felt her there in her touch. He was there to support her, to let her know she was not alone. In one moment, she returned that to him. In one moment, out of no-where, her hand rested on his knee. And it felt right, and it felt even more right to touch that hand, to wrap his around hers. There was not a lot of time, but in those moments, he knew she believed him. He knew she heard him. He knew he had found her hand in the dark. He just needed to hang on until he could put her out of the darkness completely.

He'd reluctantly let go, but it had left him feeling slightly more grounded. He could tether his thoughts to the feeling of her hand. Joan had warned him to stay out of it, but she knew he would never stay out of anything Annie was involved in. He never had, and there would never be a time that he wouldn't. He had told that to everyone: Eyal, Joan, Annie herself. _I would never leave Annie behind._

He left the building in the evening, stopping at the small grocery store along the way. He waited for one of the employees to give him a hand with his grocery order, feeling that wave of difference between his world at work and his world outside of Langley. His world inside of Langley was of respect of his capabilities, his knowledge, and his work. Outside was a maze of indifference, prejudice, pity, and frustration. And it was the thing that was driving Annie now that had gotten him to this situation.

They'd been playing spy games. He'd felt like it had all been games until then. Games of chess where the pawns were bargained and the game played on. The drive to win kept him going when the cost was too heavy. It hadn't been a game when his buddies had died one by one on the killing sands of Iraq. It hadn't been a game when he was told by a nameless and faceless voice that he wouldn't see anymore. But those things hadn't stopped him from wanting to make the final check-mate. For everything. Check-mate for Helen. Twice. Check-mate for Tash. Check-mate for his army buddies. For all those wrongs to be right again.

When Annie went dark, it hit him, the whole seriousness of it all. It wasn't chess on a board. It was the one person he needed, who was not there for him any more. And he was the person she needed. Him, the man no-one had thought had any worth seven years ago, the man they'd retired from active duty in all arenas. She'd always found him when she was lost, when he was lost.

So here he stood, holding the arm of a young clerk who was nervous and unsure, as if he were a murderer on a rampage or a tiger escaped from the zoo. This is where the games had brought him.

"Did you want the big box or the small one?" she asked him, standing in front of the cereal.

"How big—no, wait, just give me whatever one's in your hand," he snapped, tired of the time everything took in his life now. How much time had he lost just in not being able to see? He'd wasted far too much time.

"You said you need bread and milk?"

"Just get me beer," Auggie said, feeling defeated.

"So you don't want bread and milk then?"

Auggue rolled his eyes and almost pushed her forward, shaking his head in disbelief. He counted slowly to himself, knowing she was young, and an inexperienced guide. He let out the air he had been holding in his lungs, slowly.

"Yes. Milk. Bread. Beer. Whatever order that takes us." He just wanted this to be simple, and it never was. How could the complicated things be simple when just buying bread was so difficult?

Somehow, he survived the barrage of questions about price and kind and various other issues Auggie had no pretense of caring about. The cashier made the checking out far more annoying than it needed to be, and he just wanted to get out of this place—

"Wow, that's amazing! How do you know your money apart? I wouldn't be able to do that. You do really well."

And the woman behind him made noises in agreement. He was sure he gave her the look of exasperation, but he could never be sure any more if his facial expressions were as obvious to the world outside his head, having little knowledge of ninety-eight per cent of the reactions he received.

Well, except for Annie. He smiled as he sat in the back of the cab with his head back, and his eyes closed. He thought about how she'd verbally let him know she'd seen that look he gave her. Or she'd put her hand on his arm, his collar. Each touch conveyed something different. A playful bump lightened the mood. A pat on the arm told him she was leaving the room. It was as if she'd taken in the whole Sighted Guide handbook and added six new chapters herself.

But he couldn't really see her emotions in her hand. It was her face that told all she felt, and it was plain to him that he'd never be able to really gage her if she kept that from him. She could look at him with all the unsaid things written all over her eyes. Anyone else could see it. McQuaid could see it. He had seen it, he'd said things to her, Auggie knew it. He also had a weird feeling that everything McQuaid said about Annie's state of mind was true, and that he'd had her thinking about a lot of things. And Auggie really, really hoped one of those things was him, because he really didn't have much left to go on anymore.

He paid the driver, who, unlike the cashier at the grocery store, just took his money without making a scene, and made his way to the steps of his building. He reached out, finding the door, and let himself into the building.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson," a loud voice said just inside the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Connors. How was your grandson's birthday party?" Auggie locked the door of his mailbox, putting his mail into his messenger back.

"It was fine, just fine. You are just simply amazing, I don't know how you do it, going out there, working at some big fancy job. If I were you, I'd just be so sad and afraid, but _you_! You just keep going out and doing things with normal people."

Auggie was done. He pushed past her, jostling her a bit, and maybe, just maybe, hitting her shoe a little hard with his cane.

"Sorry. Have a good day, Mrs. Connors." With the grocery bag in one hand and his cane in the other, Auggie made a swift exit to his home, where everything was organised and made sense, even more so than Langley. He needed sense. He had been far too confused and pulled between too many directions lately. The only direction he knew was Annie. He would rob the sky for her.

She'd made herself a shell with no soul, but she had saved the seed of it deep down where it would be safe to grow sometime. The only way to coax it free was to get Annie out. She'd devoted too much, she had given too much. The game was over, it was hard-core life now. She'd given so much she'd ruined parts of herself, as he had. Her health was in peril. Her actions resulted in distinct danger. Her life outside Langley was far more important than the one inside. Just as she had told him she had wanted, but never realised. He needed to remind her of that now.

The sad part, the part that made Auggie feel angry with himself, was that he _knew_ how she felt. He _knew_ the drive to keep going, to feel that excitement, to bring the case in. He knew it, and she knew it, but she'd had the choice to keep quiet and keep going. He never had. And with this dark bit of sadness, he'd used Annie, in a way, to get back in the field on the occasions Joan had given him the go. He hadn't gone alone. He hadn't been sent as a lone operative. He had gone with Annie. His partner.

Milk in the fridge, left side. Beer, second shelf down. Bread in the breadbox. He smiled. _Why does everything have to be compared to a breadbox?_ Cereal to the cupboard, against the wall. He turned around, following his hand around the island to the other side. He sat on the stool, taking out his phone and placing it in front of him on the counter top.

Auggie needed to know if he was himself ready to make choices. The other night, at the Campbell's, holding baby Mac, all the other stuff seemed so far away. He'd remembered that he'd wanted that. He'd wanted to come home to a safe place with warm arms to hold him, and a small sweet-breathed bundle that saw the world with clear eyes and no bitterness or judgement. Holding the Campbell baby had torn part of his heart a little. She'd said they weren't Joan and Arthur, they could have more. But Joan and Arthur were still together, they had that sweet little life to watch grow, they had love and trust. They had to, or they wouldn't continue to try.

He could have that with Annie. He'd tried so hard to distract himself from the truth. But the games had to end, and life had to somehow begin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't own the CA characters, but I am alllll theirs...  
**

CHAPTER FIVE

"Hey."

"Hey. Annie, we need to talk."

"Auggie. I have told you before—"

"I know. But you haven't heard me out. I need to talk to you." Auggie paced behind the island in his kitchen, running his free hand along the edge of it.

"There's nothing to say."

"You're wrong. There's lots to say, heaps, and I can't keep going like this until I say 'em. Where are you?"

"Auggie."

"Annie. I'm not putting up walls anymore. I have enough of them as it is. Now where are you?" He braced himself against the island, leaning on his elbow, rubbing his hand down his face.

He heard her pause. He held his breath, waiting.

"I'll meet you. Bar?"

"I'll meet you there. But I need to go somewhere quiet. Really talk, Annie."

He hung up the phone and took a deep breath, holding it in, letting it out slowly. Then he turned and went to his closet and took out his leather jacket. The silence around him made the process of putting on the jacket and getting his bag, his cane, and his keys almost ridiculously loud. Maybe it was the silence in his head that made it seem so obnoxious. All his thoughts had been dulled into a white noise. He was on autopilot.

He locked the door after he slid it shut, and he made his way from his building to catch the next bus downtown. There was no-one else at the bus-stop, no telltale scuffing of shoes, no uncomfortable throat-clearing, no hands pulling him when the bus arrived. He found the open doors with his cane and held it upright, feeling each step before his feet. He held out his pass and it was returned to his hand momentarily. He turned, carefully avoiding any passengers and finding a seat near the front. He checked with his cane and then felt the seat, turning and sitting.

_Annie_.

He knew there was something in her that was terrified. But he also could feel it with every fibre of his body that she still had feelings, good feelings, for him. He could feel it in the way she touched him. He could feel it when he asked her a question and when she answered, she was looking at his face, he heard her voice directly, not coming from a bowed or turned head. He could feel it in the pause before she answered, when he knew she was taking advantage of being able to look at his face without him seeing her own. He knew it when she called him every time she was at a loss, or needed back up or support. He knew it when she lied to him.

She had run back to protect him in Barcelona. He thought it was because he was a liability and needed her help. But it was because she loved him. He had been so angry then.

She had lied to him so many times. And none of the lies were cruel or thoughtless. She had always lied to protect the ones she loved. She had protected him all along. Not because he was incapable, but because he meant that much to her. He knew this. In the end, she always came back to him. Always.

He remembered the night she had been shot. She was going to leave with Simon. He was going to take her away, and Annie almost went. He didn't know what had happened between his phone calls to her that night, but he knew that in the end, she called him and told him she was coming in. She always came back.

The street was announced and Auggie stood up, carefully making his way up the quiet aisle, finding the stairs with his cane. He stepped onto the sidewalk and took two steps ahead, then he turned, sweeping his cane in an arc to find the edge of the sidewalk.

"Auggie," she said.

Auggie couldn't help the way his mouth quirked into a grin. "Annie."

Her hand brushed against the back of his and he took her lead. "There's a place," was all she said, and he followed her with trust. After several minutes of silent travel, she paused, and climbed four stairs and continued. She opened a door, which, when he passed through and held on to it, he found was very heavy and wooden. Their footsteps echoed as they passed into the interior of the building.

"A church?" Auggie asked her, puzzled.

"It's quiet. It's a safe place."

He stopped her. "You don't like safe places."

She started forward again, and then placed his hand on the back of a pew. She slid in first and he followed.

She waited for him to say anything. She had come to listen to him. He bit the bullet and held out his left hand, palm up. He needed to connect with her, and this was his only option, without seeing her eyes. He was grateful, after a moment, when he felt her slide her hand into his. And held on. He could see her now.

He started. "I know all of this went so very wrong. I meant it back before all this, Helen was wrong. She was _wrong_, Annie. You can have it. You know what happened when you were gone? Joan and Arthur, the ones we didn't want to end up like because we wanted to do better, they had a baby. A little, warm, snuggly, gurgling baby. Have you seen Arthur with Mac? The two of them are... they are doing it, Annie. Because they want to. You said you wanted your life outside to be more important than your life inside Langley. Then _do_ it, Annie. You are not Langley. You are allowed to have a life outside. We can have a life outside. We can work together on it. Annie, I know you want to be in the field, so do I. But it is dangerous for you. And without you, it's dangerous for me. We have so much more to offer them. Hell, if not, we can work in the private sector. I don't care anymore. I don't care about Henry Wilcox, or Lena, or Khalid. They did _not_ kill us, Annie. You're there. I'm here." He squeezed her hand.

"I've been alone, really alone, for a long time. When we were together, I..." He chewed his lip, thinking of a way to explain it. "I didn't feel alone. I felt home. I didn't have to impress you, Annie. I didn't have to be flashy. And I knew this, God, Annie, I knew it from the start. I didn't _want_ to impress you, not after that first day. I stopped trying to impress you. I just was me. And that was so fucking different than anything I've been doing for years. And you were _still_ impressed, I heard you tell me that. I couldn't stop thinking about it, because I never set out after that first day, to impress you. And... the days you weren't there, the days you were just the voice in my ear, it felt like I was just a little outside of everything. I mean, except for Joan, she always is my best ally there, and she's..." He stopped. "I miss you. I always miss you. You're right here with me now and I miss you." He put out his other hand. "I don't know how to stop needing you."

She took it, holding both his hands in hers, still silent.

"I don't think I can, Annie. All I want to do is to love you. To protect you and guide you as best as I can. Like I always have. I will _never_ leave you behind. We can start again. It was taken away from us so fast, we never had a chance to even try. I feel like... we didn't end the relationship. Wilcox did, and why does he get the last word, Annie? Why should he win? He wanted you to not trust me; he did everything in his power to make you turn on me. And you let him, in a way, and in another way, you killed us by protecting me. What do those two things mean?" He took a breath, holding her hands, feeling her life in them, knowing she was searching his face with her eyes. He wanted to do the same, but instead, he caressed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. "It means you care about me more than you are admitting.

"You said you couldn't be attached to anyone. And you keep jumping from one unattachment with someone to another. For sex, companionship, hope, I am not sure, and I don't even care. But you can have every one of those things with me. And I won't turn my back on you. I'll never choose anything in the organisation over you. Ever.

"What I did, Annie, was wrong. I didn't know where you were, I thought... I thought I was meeting you that night with... with Helen. I had a text message. I thought it was you. I took that bus and when I got off and it was Helen, I was sad. I had hoped. Against all hopes, obviously, I'd wished it was you there."

He felt the fingers in his own tighten.

"I told her... after... that I had wronged her, as well as you. She knew. How could she not know I loved you? Everyone can see it." He smiled, trying in effort to pretend to peer at her. "Except me, obviously." There was a small breath of a laugh and he continued. "Joan's been hinting all along to me about how we are such a great team, and how we need to work together and asking about you, and me, and, it's crazy, coming from Joan. She's practically putting us together with handcuffs."

Annie did laugh then. It sang in through Auggie's ears straight to his heart.

He leaned in close, his head bowed. "I love you, Annie. I've loved you since the day I met you. And I have been _in love_ with you since almost as long. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to lie, or have to cover up anything. It's all this other _shit_, that comes back to haunt my life now. And all I want my life now to be is with you. In the agency, out of the agency, I don't care now. You are more important to me than any of it."

"But you love it," she whispered. "I love it."

"You haven't loved it since Wilcox dropped that note on your desk. All your joy in that job was pulled out of you." He let go of her hand and moved his right hand tentatively up to meet her cheek. To his absolute relief and joy, she leaned into it.

He leaned closer. "Annie. I need you. I love you. I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be without you. I don't want anyone else. I've been searching, Annie. Searching for bodies to fill your place, warm arms to wrap around my neck, warm stomachs to wrap my own arms around. And every time I did it, it was you I woke up to. I'd open my eyes and it was you there with me. It didn't have to not be you for that first little bit, because I could imagine you. It's easy to imagine something else when you can't see what's there in front of you for real."

There was silence, and he let his hand stroke her hair and cheek. He knew this would break him if she left now.

**Oh, SNAP, Finlaure, what are you doing to your readers? I was going to finish this episode/chapter with some kind of resolution, but I just can't. It needs to be cliffhung... cliffhanged... cliffhangered? Just to keep my lovelies on the edges of your seats. Want more? I love reviews. I eat them with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yeah, I couldn't put you guys through what the CA writers are putting us through, so I'm throwing you a bone. Quick chapter update so as not to leave you completely gutted. If you are. I mean, I'm sure I don't have that much effect on your lives. Anyway, onto the show.**

**Own no part of the Covert Affairs machine; I just enjoy taking them out of the box and playing with them.**

****  
CHAPTER SIX

Auggie kept his hand on her cheek, his other hand wrapped around hers. Annie bowed her head. She was so quiet, but Auggie sensed she was crying. He wasn't sure, so he moved his fingers across her cheek and brushed a tear streaming down her face. She shook her head and took his hand away with her free hand.

"Annie," he whispered. "Don't leave me. Please. Talk to me."

"You've been through too much," she said in a low voice. "I'm not putting you through any more. I'm a danger to you, Auggie. You've lost so much in this career and I... you need someone that is safer than I am."

"No, Annie. I need you. You balance me out. You get me excited about this job. You-"

"I lied to you. I did everything to give you a chance to-"

"No! You did not give me a chance to move on. Because you never gave me reason to go. I told you Helen was a mistake. And I waited for you. All these months, I have been waiting. I woke up, while you were gone, and I checked my messages on every phone and message board I have. And every night I went to bed wishing I could hear your voice. And you didn't call. You didn't come back. But I never moved on."

"What about Hayley? And Tash?"

"You had pushed me so far away by that time, I wanted to forget. I wanted to go back with Tash and forget any of this had ever happened. Hayley, well, that was a night gone on too long. I regret the first drink I sent her. I regret taking her home. I regret her being involved in us, Annie. And Tash... I just wanted someone Annie. But no-one is you. And you've gotten in here," He tapped his forehead, "and I can't forget. And I'm tired of trying to. I've been walking on eggshells, trying not to push you, trying to make things okay. You won't talk to me anymore, why?"

She pulled away from him then, turning to the front. "It's everything. You don't trust me, I don't trust you."

"Is that it? Trust? You think it's gone?"

"It is gone. You trusted me and I blew it. You blew it, too."

Auggie felt the gulf between her and him and it seemed like she had turned to smoke.

"I still trust you. Why else would I cover for you and risk my job. They've already waved the suspension papers in front of me a few times for you. And know what, Walker? I'd do everything again for you. Except I would never have told you we couldn't do this."

"I can't trust myself," she said simply.

"I can. You will, too. You need people Annie. People behind you who care. You cannot do everything alone. You know this. You _know_ this, Annie. Even Henry Wilcox didn't go down without some backup. We all had a hand in that, Annie, not just you. You don't need to carry that yourself anymore. We were there for you then, and we're here for you now. Calder, Joan, and Arthur are working on things. Joan knows, Annie. She knows you better than you think, and she knows why you resigned. And she knows I'm in on it, because she knows me, too."

Annie stood. Auggie's heart nearly stopped and he tried to reach out to her, but she'd moved away. He heard her shoes as she slowly walked up the side aisle and across the front of the church. His heart slowly returned to a safe pace. He stayed seated, turning his head to follow the sound of her movements.

"Everything I did, I did for you. And Joan. And Arthur and Mac. I had to separate myself from you, so he wouldn't take you away from me. I had to take you away from me, to keep you safe. After a while, I had numbed from the pain. It was better. It let me do my job. I had nothing to tie me down, nothing to stop me. And then, I couldn't come back. I was sick. I was so used to being alone, being ruthless to finish the job, that once the job was done..."

"You had nothing." Auggie spoke from experience.

The footsteps started again. "I couldn't bring all that back to you. I just wanted to do my job. I can't do this to you any more."

"But you still wanted me to be your handler."

"You said it. We're a good team."

Auggie raised his eyebrows. "We _are_ a good team. We can _be_ a good team again, Annie. But all this is getting in the way. It's, like, how can we pretend none of this happened and go back to before? And yet, I want it to be like that. We made this job, this job that can be so shitty and hurt so much, we made it okay. We saved each other from falling on more than one occasion."

He heard her sniffle. There were emotions after all. He stood, sliding out from the pew and moving up the centre aisle toward her, keeping his hand outstretched and touching the top of each pew back as he passed it. At the first pew, he took two more steps ahead, feeling her there, probably looking up at the religious sacrifice on the cross that surely hung there.

He faced the front as well, giving her a bit of space to cry, but he didn't stop talking.

"Everything has been about talking with us, Annie. We did it until we had to. And then we never managed to get it done properly. It took forever for us to talk about our feelings. It took a rather brave attempt on yours truly's behalf, twice, actually, to get to the point."

"Twice?"

He quirked one corner of his mouth and gave a bit of a shrug. "The first time, you weren't home."

She gave a small laugh within her tears. A good sign, if only a small one.

"Annie. I know I'm not some suave, debonair, rich, jet-setter, or a body-builder with smoldering eyes, or..." He dropped his head. "I'm just a dorky computer tech wizard, and I can't drive you around in that fancy Corvette you have, and I can't look you in your eyes and tell you how important you are to me, and I can't see your face to know-"

He was stopped by the force of her arms around him and her body against his. He enveloped her in his arms, not knowing if she was acquiescing to his words, or only for a deep need for a connection. He knew he needed a connection; she had been so distant that even when he held her elbow she wasn't there beside him.

She was there now, in the fullest sense. He rested his chin on her hair, breathing in her clean, soft scent. Her body fit into his arms and chest so well, it was like she had been molded for him. He shoulders shook with her silent sobbing. Her walls were cracking and he was going to be right here to pick up the pieces and sweep them as far away as he could.

"I told you I never want to stop talking. And I don't. What can I say?" He lifted her chin so she could see his mischievous grin. "I'm a talker." He felt a laugh from her and he hugged her again. "Please don't go away from me, Annie. Please tell me you'll come home with me and keep talking. We can work this out. I know we can. I have faith in you, Annie. You're stronger than anyone I know. And, hey, I may have come through a few things, too, just sayin'." He sighed. "I know we can do this."

She turned her head, her cheek resting calmly on his chest, letting him hold her. "I'm afraid."

"The only thing I am afraid of is not having you, Annie. Not teasing you, not talking to you about stupid things, not lying next to you, and not waking up next to you, that's what makes me scared." He spoke in a calm, quiet voice, murmuring into her hair.

"You make everything easier for me, Walker. You don't know this, but I don't always feel very sure of myself outside the agency. I know where I stand there, and I know my business and I have all those halls mapped. But outside, in real life... I get lost sometimes. Metaphorically _and_ physically. I'm not always the happy-go-lucky nerd in the computer lab. I don't like to admit how much I need help. And I never have to with you. I'm not damaged to you."

Annie leaned back; he felt her peering deeply at him. "You aren't. You're the one thing that isn't damaged in my life."

"Well, I don't know about _that_," he teased.

"You're not damaged to me. You are the way you are, you're Auggie. You're the same man I met, I only know you as you. How can you be damaged to me when I admire you, I've admired you since you gave me the grand tour. If there is anything I know, it's that I haven't ever thought of you as less than anyone, Auggie. You never lost anything that I've seen. I never knew a sighted version of you, so you have never lost anything to me. If it's any consolation, you're more interesting to me because of who you are."

"A total dork?" he smiled into her hair.

Her laugh felt lighter, but he still didn't let go of her. As long as he could keep her there, he would never let go. "I like that part, too," she smiled.

Auggie felt her move back from him. She reached up and touched his face, bringing it down gently toward her. He dared not to breathe—

Her lips took his and his entire world lit up inside him. He enveloped her in his arms and kissed her back, with more passion and feeling than he had kissed anyone, well, since he'd last kissed her. He felt her hands clutching at his arms, his chest, making sure he was truly there, solidly in front of her and he kissed her with all the love that he'd been unable to share for nearly a year. She pulled away only a little bit, and he pulled her head gently back towards his, letting their foreheads touch in the way that connected them without eye contact.

"I won't let you go again," Auggie whispered.

"There's so much to say. There's so much to work out."

"We have time. We have all the time in the world, Annie. Come home with me. We can start talking and never stop until the sun stops coming up. And then you'd have to talk, to tell me the sun wasn't coming up. 'Cause, you know, I can't really..." He waved his hands in front of his eyes, smiling at her through his old joke.

She groaned. "Eye roll," she said, and he felt her arm reach up, presumably wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Auggie knew his own eyes would be rimmed with red, and damp with emotion, but he reached up with his hand, again gently brushing her cheek, wiping the tears himself.

"Come home with me. That's all I ask of you right now. We can talk, or sleep or I'll hold you like this. Just come home with me."

And everything inside him became peaceful and filled with radiance when he felt her nod.


	7. Chapter 7

**Own no part of Covert Affairs. I do own my imagination and my adoration of Auggie. And also my need to riot if #Walkerson does not reunite.**

CHAPTER SIX

Auggie was not sure what time it was when he awoke. He slid his hand across the sheet to an empty space beside him. He felt to make sure, but there was no-one there. They had come back to his place and fell together on the bed, not wanting to speak just yet, just needing to be in each other's space. Auggie had changed into pyjama pants and Annie wore one of his T-shirts. Again. He'd slept with his arms around her, and she'd let him. But the empty space beside him was cool to his touch and he wasn't sure if the morning light had scared her enough to cause her to run. He reached over to the bedside table for his watch.

"I'm here," she said, her voice coming from a silent edge of the bedroom.

He let a breath out. "Thank you," he said, not sure if he was thanking her for letting him know she was still there, or for just still being there.

"Thank you, Auggie. For... for not pushing me last night. For just being here. For... God, Auggie, for everything. You do everything and it just keeps hurting you! _I_ keep hurting you. I thought you were some kind of genius, but you're not smart enough to just leave me alone." It didn't come out harsh. It sounded, to Auggie, like loss.

Auggie moved across the bed and to the floor at the foot of it, finding his way to her. He touched her arm, and his hands immediately made their way to the sides of her head, touching her soft hair and her cheeks.

"I already told you. You've got me, Annie. I'm always on your side." If only she could see past her own tangled web, she'd know that. But he needed to know something just as clearly. "I just need to know... Do you have feelings for McQuaid?"

"You are always asking me about how I feel about them."

"Them?"

"Other guys. Auggie, when you asked me about that with Simon... and with Eyal-"

"How could you have not known, Annie? We were always bouncing around, like a pinball machine. I reacted every time you were with someone else. I ran off with Parker. I did things that..." He dropped his hands, his head lowered. "Our timing's always been off."

"I made coffee," she said.

"I know."

"Come on, let's go down and have some coffee and... I wanna talk, Auggie. I want to keep talking, like you said. This has been so weird. I don't like it. I don't want to be alone, but I can't take how it is with us, with me and every person I know. No-one trusts me, no-one believes me anymore. I'm like a pariah. I've done everything everyone wanted and now no-one wants me in the game."

"I do."

"Come on." Annie stood and he felt her lean and take his hand. As he got to his feet, Annie wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled as he reciprocated. This was all he needed, all he wanted to be able to do right now, being her comfort.

Down in the kitchen, Annie poured Auggie a cup of coffee. He sat at the island, noticing how different it felt having Annie's presence there than having Natasha or Hayley's. Natasha was his past. She would always be his past. She meant a whole lot to him, always would. He loved her, had loved her. But his comfort level with her was different. He wasn't sure how she felt, really, about how he had changed since she had been with him before. It was always _Before_ and _After_. _Before_ everything. _After_ he'd messed her life up.

Hayley, well, he didn't want to go there. That had been wrong, Annie knew that. _Everyone_ knew _that_ one. It had started as a lonely night at a bar, didn't most of them? He'd been sulking into his beer because Annie had told him she wanted no more emotional attachments to anyone—to him. He was a dude, for God's sake. How else was he going to distract himself from his own anguish? He had played the suave, careless "buddy" to Annie at that admission she'd hurled at him. He'd brushed it off. He'd never let anyone see his pain before, and he'd let her in and this had happened. He'd reverted back to the wall of impenetrable feeling all in that one second when she had said she couldn't have attachments. He'd shrugged and said it was all good. And it wasn't.

She'd shrugged and said she was _all good_ several times since then. And she wasn't.

But it was her turn. She was still here, in his apartment, making him coffee, wearing his T-shirt. It was her turn and she wasn't going.

"Auggie?"

Her voice sounded scared. He reached out his hand, palm up, across the island countertop.

"I'm sorry."

He heard it. In two words, all the sadness she had caused him melted over her tongue. She took a big breath. He waited.

"I was not right. You weren't always right. But we were both right when we said we could do this. We just weren't right at the same time. Helen... she was wrong. I told her so. I told her. But you went back to her, Auggie. I know you said you thought you were meeting me. I know you were disappointed that it wasn't, and you were hurt. And I know hurt, I know it makes you do stupid things you wouldn't dream of doing when your emotions aren't in total chaos."

Auggie nodded. He had to let her tell him about how she felt the same way with McQuaid, and not feel anything but empathy.

"I did things I will never forgive myself for."

"What's the point, Annie?" Auggie interrupted. "Why do we have to hold ourselves to bad feelings for the rest of our lives? We were brought alongside each other, we never let go. You had dates, I had... dates... and we stuck through that. We made wrong choices, but we made some right ones. You remember things I told you on your first day, Annie. You made an impression on me so big I came home after that first assignment you had and I sat here at this counter and rehashed every word, every touch, every single time we had contact. In two days, Annie, you'd changed my whole life again. I'd been sitting at the DPD for two years at that same desk and nothing had taken me by so much excitement as being arrested and questioned by the FBI as to why I was standing barefoot in a morgue with a call girl."

"We don't like to use that term," Annie whispered to him, her seriousness belying the joke of her statement.

Auggie laughed. "The thing is, Annie, you just came right in to my life and never questioned if I should be in yours. You never questioned anything about me. You trusted me. You asked me questions about your sister's husband. You asked me about how to tell your sister you're CIA. You came to me. A blind guy. You never passed my judgement over, until, well, until you did."

"I was lost to everything but making Henry pay. I lost more after I started retaliating for him hurting people I love. The more I got involved, the worse it got. I had to see it end and I had to make sure that it would stop. My involvement made it worse. And I couldn't stop."

"It's over now, Annie. It's over. The war is over and you're home now. If you are still living in the war, you can't ever be home."

"I want to be home," she said, and Auggie could hear tears in her voice.

"You can do this."

"Show me how."

She was really crying now. He pulled her over to him, standing and holding her again. "I can. I was sent to be your tour guide and the tour took a trip into the battlefield. I've been there, and I can bring you back. But you have to trust me again. And I need to trust you. I need you to talk to me, Annie. All the time. I need you to tell me. I miss a lot, in case you haven't noticed. Like all the times I missed knowing I was breaking your heart when I was going in the opposite direction to you... with Parker, with my anger... I'm good, but I don't catch everything. I need you to talk to me. You can make it back off the battlefield; it's a good place to be away from. You have battle damage, we all do, but, Annie, you've seen past mine since the day you met me. You've worked around it, made allowances for it, made it almost... something special to work with. I mean, I've never had so much non-visual contact or cues from anyone like with you. You just know exactly how to... I don't even know, you just have synced with me so well that I don't even need to see to see you. That sounds so silly, but it's true. And I want to be able to do the same for you, to work around what has changed you, to make it okay, to make you feel like you are a whole, good, person with a history that makes you a better one, one with empathy and understanding. One thing about having battle scars, Walker, is that we are way gentler with others who also suffer. You've closed yourself off to helping others, you may not realise that. By shutting your emotions down, you're stopping the goodness that you will do with your understanding."

"Why are you always right?"

He smiled, but it was sad. "I'm not. That's partly why we're stuck in this place."

"I don't think we're stuck," Annie told him, letting her arms drop loosely around his back. "I think I want to move forward. Slowly. Because I'm scared of losing."

"I can move slowly," Auggie said, feeling this to be a safe place for a joke. "Just take my cane away and put me out in the world, and watch how slowly I can move."

"Auggie?"

"Yeah?"

"When will I be able to joke about it?"

"When you know you can survive it."

He felt her just staring at him. He pulled her in, letting his forehead rest against her, getting his own share of "visual" contact. "You can survive it, too."

"I want to. With you."

Auggie smiled. "You are always safe with me. I won't turn you away, Annie. We've got the hardest part behind us. The rest? The job, field work, your medical condition, all that, we can work at together. Okay? We'll figure it out. We'll get some good doctors, and we'll take it as it comes, together."

"Everywhere I go, Auggie, you have friends. Friends who respect you so much, who say they are better for knowing you. How can you have that much effect? But you do. You don't know, when I was away, I thought about you every day. Every day, I imagined coming back to you. I made up so many scenarios that when I was coming home, I couldn't see you. Because none of them were real, and I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear what I did, and all I wanted was for it to be gone, and for everything to be okay with us. You got me through all of it, you don't even know. It was you that I came home for. And it was you that scared me the most for disappointing."

"Well, I do have a good circle of friends who enjoy a good bottle of booze now and then," Auggie started with a smile.

"It's all more than booze, Auggie. They like the St. Bernard that brings it to them."

Auggie laughed out loud. He'd forgotten her remark about the stuffed animal she was going to buy him as a souvenir.

"Well, what can I say? I'm a legend. Now, what say we put some food in that stomach of yours, and figure out what we're gonna say to Joan when we call her."

"We're calling Joan?"

"Well, we have to get you reinstated into her DPD, right?"

Annie smiled. "I think I lost my other job. McQuaid's going to be okay, but I don't think his agency is."

"I know. I'd heard he'd been released."

"Yes."

"Are you going to go see him?"

"I'll give it a few days. I don't want to go anywhere right now. If that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. We'll set up a little cosy camp-out and order pizza and we'll watch TV and just be here for each other. If you need to cry or scream or talk, I am going to be right here. I told you we'll take it slow and safe, and that's what we're going to do, because we are _not_ going to mess this up, Walker. Not this time and not again."

"You told me before that you would tell me what I look like," Annie said in a small voice.

"Pretty good party trick," said Auggie, brushing her hair from her face.

"What do I look like?"

Auggie smiled, closing his eyes. How could he ever tell her how beautiful she was?


	8. Chapter 8

**I wasn't going to actually take this sword up, but then YellyBelly **_**had**_** to go and suggest it, and no-one else has done it, to my knowledge, though I could be wrong, and if I am, please PM me and tell me so I can run off and read it to see what someone else came up with. However, as it is, this is just a little mini-chapter to keep you running until my next. No rushing them this time. They rush too much into everything lately.**

**And, as usual, I don't own anything of Covert Affairs except my hopes for Walkerson and Season 6. Or, I may riot. Just sayin'.  
**

CHAPTER EIGHT

Auggie smiled. He stepped in closer to her and put out his hand, touching the spot above her left ear. He closed his eyes, and Annie peered at him, deeply, waiting.

"Your hair is spun out of sunlight and silk. Sometimes you wear it up and you look like a million bucks. You are a gazelle in a gilded room, innocence and grace, but you don't belong there. You are made from different places. " He moved his fingertip across her cheekbone and caressed it, sliding it over her eyelid.

"Your eyes," he said, opening his own and smiling, "are brown. You told me that a long time ago. No magic there. What you didn't tell me is how your soul pours out through them. I know this because I've talked to your sister. When I had to call her to tell her you... well, anyway, we talked for a long time, Walker. She told me a lot of things about you. She needed to... talk, as much as I needed to connect and grieve. She told me that you looked into her soul with yours through those eyes." He felt her shake her head ever so minutely.

His fingers traced to her nose. "Your nose... well, it is perfect. I can't rave enough about your nose. I imagine you have freckles there somewhere. Maybe, when the sun hits and you have no makeup?" He was enjoying this. "It would suit you, so I'm gonna say you're freckled in the summer. Just here." He leaned forward and his fingers left the bridge of her nose just as his lips reached it. He felt a breath of air puff from her nose as she giggled a bit. He leaned back, a cocky grin on his face, and found her cheek again, then ran his fingers on her lips.

"Big smile. Warm. Infectious. " He twitched his shoulders and quirked his mouth. "Maybe the most perfect mouth."

"Maybe?"

"I need more research into it. I'm gonna say, tentatively that you have the most perfect lips. I'll be doing some work into that, just so you know."

Annie laughed and tapped his chest in her gesture for him to know she was exasperated. He laughed, and as he did, he felt a part of how it had been before come bubbling to the surface between them.

He took a breath and felt down her lithe neck to her shoulder. "You are small and quick and strong. I remember when I touched your shoulder and your arm one day when you came in from climbing rock faces—"

"With Doctor Scott?"

Auggie made a face. "Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I just remember I dragged you off the face of a cliff and you were wearing a very small tank top. I remember thinking how small you were. But then, in the gym, you're a firecracker, a powerhouse. So, in a way, I picture you like an angel. You are grace and elegance and strength and fury and beauty and soul. You are soft and you are terrifying." He sighed. Then he raised his eyebrows and grinned at her. "Sometimes, I feel the colour orange from you."

"Orange?" Annie laughed.

"Yeah," Auggie shook his head, as confused by the idea as she was.

"Why orange?"

"I don't know. Fresh and sunshiney? I have no idea. Maybe it was your Jo Malone Grapefruit. I just... feel orange sometimes. Other times, I find you a bit in the turquoise green tones. I know you need some laughs then." His smiled faded. "Lately, you give off nothing. Black, I guess. It scared me, Annie."

"I know."

"I want to see you in colours again."

She took his hands in hers and then slid them around her waist. "I want you to see me in colours, too. I just want you to hold me and see me however you need to, and never let go. But I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't run. Don't leave. And we can keep working on all this. I like this. This is good."

"I like it, too," she said, honestly. "I like that you see me in colours."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm no angel. Maybe a fallen one. But I like gazelle."

"You're all of those things."

"What colour am I now?"

Auggie stood in thought. He had no idea. Right now, she was velvet. She was deep and comforting and beautiful, but he was afraid to crush her. She was translucent and only beginning to take on a familiar form again. Then it hit him.

"Silver."

Annie was silent. Auggie wasn''t sure if she was upset or just bored. He found her hand and squeezed it, and to his relief she squeezed back and held tight.

"Silver. Sometimes, there's a flash of light there, and other times, you disappear into your surroundings so I can't make you out. I don't like it, Annie. I miss... knowing it's you."

"That was always weird."

"_This_ is weird. That was _perfection_."

"We'll get there."

Auggie felt his heart blossom at her words, so believed by their speaker as she spoke them.

"We will."


	9. Chapter 9

**As usual, I own nothing. Well, not entirely true, but I don't own Covert Affairs or its characters, even though I can't control when they play around in my head.**

Chapter Nine

"Auggie!" Joan called out as Auggie headed out for the night. He stopped and turned, waiting for her to come towards him.

"How is Annie?"

"She's..." Auggie's voice trailed off. "I'm not sure, Joan. I honestly think she's trying. But-"

"You're not quite sure."

Auggie closed his eyes, his face dropping a bit. "I wish I were. I wish I could just believe she's okay, that she's gonna be okay. She lied to me so many times, Joan."

He felt Joan's hand on his forearm. "You can get through this, Auggie. I've been rooting for you two, in case you haven't noticed."

"Yeah?" Auggie couldn't help the smile that brightened his face.

"It's a hard road. Lord knows Arthur and I have had our own times where I didn't think we'd make it."

Auggie grinned, thinking about the little baby that Joan and Arthur cuddled with at home on Sunday mornings, and the late night suppers they shared when one was held up late on an assignment or a mission in need. He knew Joan had fought hard to be at this happy place in her home life. And he knew how much happiness the Campbell house finally had settled upon it, after many a hard fight and nights alone by its occupants. It inspired him because he knew he and Annie had so much less to deal with that Joan and Arthur had, in so many ways. And Joan and Arthur and little Mack were winning the ever-ongoing fight that wanted to tear them apart. Not just winning, they were kicking some butt together as a team. Auggie loved that about his mentors. And he planned on doing the same, if only Annie would come back to him.

"You just need to keep wanting it. If you stop wanting it, if you stop loving her, if she stops loving you, then you have nowhere to go."

"I will _never_ stop loving her," Auggie said quietly, adamantly. "I just can't know if she feels the same."

"I think she's working that out. I hope she is. How about her condition?"

"She has another appointment on Monday, and I intend on finding out exactly what is going on and what can be done. Sometimes, things can be fixed." _Sometimes, some things can't be fixed._

Joan, who had kept her fingers around Auggie's forearm, gave it another squeeze and let go.

"There are a lot of new procedures, and she hasn't been to a US doctor. There may be something new to try. And Auggie, let me know, please. If there's _anything_ I can do to help, call me."

"Thank you."

Auggie listened to Joan's heels retreat and he turned back to the door out of the department. He had to stop for some things for Annie. She was sleeping at his place, having taken time off after Belenko had fled the scene of his latest crimes. She wasn't tired, she'd said, but when he talked to her at noon, she had slept the whole morning away and was watching TV mindlessly.

_"What do you need?"_

_ "I can get it, Auggie."_

_ "You can, but you're not going to, because I am. Now what do you need? I imagine you are still wearing my T-shirt and PJ bottoms, and you've probably put your hair all messy in a ponytail... You're not fit to be wandering around out there. Relax, okay? Now. What. Do. You. Need?"_

He stopped at the pharmacy. There was an older women working at the first counter, and he gave her a winning smile.

"Hi. I need some help, here."

"Of course. What can I get for you?"

"I need to pick a few things up for a friend, and, uh." Auggie stopped. He normally would have the clerk take him around and let him choose and feel the items he was looking for, but he was tired and he knew that Annie wasn't picky tonight, and this sales assistant was probably more in-the-know anyway as to what Annie might need. He told her a general list, including shampoo and conditioner and deodorant. She rang him through cash and he thanked her for her help. Then he took a breath and continued on his mission.

He walked the block and a half to pick up some bananas, peaches, granola bars, and a healthy bottle of peanut butter. Annie wasn't eating well, and she only picked at the food when she got it, so Auggie wanted to make sure there were some high-energy foods and some protein for her to snack on. His plan tonight was to order that pizza and watch a movie, and let Annie just be there, without any requirement from her. If she wanted to talk, that was good, and if not, that was okay. As long as she stayed. As long as she didn't run.

That was another fear as Auggie left the small grocery store with yet another bag: that Annie would not be at his apartment when he came home. It was a bigger fear than he could even admit to himself, because there was such a great chance that it would be the case. He stepped along the sidewalk, the bags clutched in one hand, his cane swinging in his other.

As he reached the end of the block, a hand grabbed his arm.

"Hey, man, careful! You need some help?"

Auggie shook off the man's hand. "No. I'm fine." He was used to this happening every now and then, and it still jarred him every time. Someone grabbing you in the dark wasn't something one expected.

"You're at the street."

"I know." Auggie felt the frustration in his voice. "I'm okay."

"Okay." The man didn't move. Auggie knew he now had an audience watch him as he waited for the audio alert to cross the street. If he messed up, he'd perpetuate the idea that a blind person was too inept to cross a road on their own. He had to prove it now to this curious bystander. He turned ninety degrees and stepped forward to the cut-out, feeling the edge with his cane. He took two steps back and reached out to the button for the cross-walk, which made a clicking sound to guide him. He found it and pushed it, stepping back to the curb. So far, straight forward. He could do this all the time without thinking about it, but as soon as he knew there was a doubter watching, he became self-conscious and more likely to make a mistake. He shook that thought out of his mind and waited for the alert to sound from the other side, keeping his direction right as he crossed. As his cane met the curb on the other side, he grinned to himself, and headed straight forward along his route. He wanted badly to yell, "Thanks, though!" to the faceless do-gooder, but he kept his comments inside. He heard people shuffling to get out of the way of his cane, terrified that he might hit them and they would therefore become visible to him. So many people took advantage of their notion that if they were mostly quiet, Auggie would not know of their existence. Auggie shook his head at many of them, who snuck around, thinking they were invisible. Stupid people. They were scared of his disability so they dealt with it by pretending he didn't exist and then they didn't have to deal with it.

He reached his building, hoping without admitting to it that Annie was inside. As he made his way down his hallway, he thought he could hear a television inside. He put the bags down and held the cane to his chest as he found the keyhole with his fingers and slid the key in. He picked up the bags and slid the door open, dropping them inside and pulling the door shut.

"Annie?" he called.

"I'm here," she replied, as she moved toward him. He felt her hand close around his bicep as a welcome.

_Well, that was a different greeting than Tash's._

"Hi," he said, his voice soft and light.

"How was everything?"

"Good. It's all calm right now. Belenko's underground, and we can't do anything until we have him back on radar. Joan's got a team working around the clock."

"I talked to her today."

Auggie folded his cane and put it on the credenza. He went back to the door and found the bags, taking them to the island. "You did? When?" He didn't want to rush her or force her to tell him things. He preferred to let her open to him, now that he had prompted her to start, easing her along. It was almost just like turning an asset, except he felt his life with her was in far more jeopardy than when he was trying to turn someone to come in to Langley.

"On the phone. She wanted to come see me. I didn't think that was right, this being your place, and all."

"I wouldn't have minded."

"I guess I just wanted an excuse."

Auggie stopped removing things from the bags. "An excuse for what?"

"Hiding. Joan doesn't trust me-"

"Joan has your back, Annie. She always has your back. You don't even know all the times. She has gone up hard against Arthur for you, Annie. All those times when he used you for his purposes within the agency, Joan defended you, Joan held her ground for you. You do not need to hide from her. She's not after you, Annie. We all want you to be okay. Because as an operative, you are unparalleled. The CIA needs you, Annie. We all do. You need to get yourself okay, so you can do your magic. Now." He changed topics. "I brought you some stuff here. Use what you want, if there's anything else, let me know."

"Auggie?"

"Yes."

"Thank you."

He finally let out that breath he had been holding inside since he left work. "Any time, Walker." Everything about her was what he needed. He needed her. He'd admitted it rarely to anyone, and he'd admitted it to himself first and then to her. And then they both forgot. The crap that people gave him out in the world, the roadblocks they set up for him, the pity and condescending behaviour they poured in his direction hit him every day, and not one part of that was Annie. He needed her for all different reasons, and very few of them were because he was blind. And yet, all the reasons she gave him to need her included her assessment and treatment of him. He would never be able to tell her how much it meant to him. And he didn't have to, but he would, when the time was right. He would say all the things he needed to when the time was right. Some of those things had been started, and he was damned this time not to say them all. And this time, she seemed willing to just wait and listen. _As long as she stayed_. He needed her to stay.

He heard her moving the stuff, presumably picking it up and looking through things. He leaned both hands on the countertop and scrunched up his face in that nerdy way he knew would get her to laugh.

"I need pizza and mindless movies. Pronto. All this other shit can wait until we have some down time." It worked and he heard her giggle. He moved around the counter with his hand extended, searching her out. He touched her arm and moved his hand up to her shoulder and then to her cheek. He felt her respond. She leaned in and clutched at his hand with her own. She wasn't ready to release herself yet, but she was becoming less aloof to him now. She was starting to let him back in.

"You call in the pizza. I'm gonna take a shower and then I'm gonna come out and show you what a neck massage feels like when it's done right." He started across the room to the stairs.

"Auggie," she laughed, "You don't have to do that."

"What?" He pretended to look surprised. "I think I do."

"You spoil me," she said softly.

"Someone has to," he replied in the same tone. Then he turned and felt for the railing, heading to clean up and put on something comfortable to relax in. He knew Annie couldn't see the smile that crept onto his face as he climbed the stairs, but tonight, even though he would not be making love to her, and maybe not tomorrow or the next day after that, he felt like everything he wanted was right where it was supposed to be.


	10. Chapter 10

**A photo, a day of Walkerson inspiration, and a request all came together to swirl up my latest chapter. Ten is a long way from my intention for one chapter. But I'm not complaining. I take all ideas and requests and carefully and lovingly mix them in with other chocolaty and creamy ingredients for a potentially delicious result. And I take all reviews, critiques, and platitudes with honour that you have taken time to read and review little ol' me and my scribblins. **

CHAPTER TEN

The pizza was a good plan. It was exactly what they both needed. Pizza carried no weight, no manners, no formality. Auggie appreciated any food he could acceptably eat with his hands, and Annie desired the comfort that came with pizza.

University stress had been dulled by pizza. Lonely nights alone in the city had been placated with pizza. Nights with Danielle when Michael was away had often involved pizza. And as Annie watched Auggie coming down the stairs, pulling a t-shirt on, smiling as he guided himself easily with the back of his hand, she knew that this pizza would heal some of her wounds, too.

Auggie crossed the room, his smile bigger as he approached her. "I can only guess that the pizza is here," he teased her.

She laughed and touched his hand as he came toward her. She placed it on the warm box on the counter. Auggie kept his hand on it for a minute and then he nodded to her. "Did you pick a movie?"

"No. I forgot."

Auggie laughed. "Okay, well, I'll get us something to drink, and get the plates and some napkins, trust me, I'll need some. You figure out about a movie."

Auggie listened to her as she fidgeted with the remote control, trying to scan the channels or order a movie up.

Don't forget to check for descriptive video," he called over to her.

"Of course I won't," Annie said matter-of-factly.

Auggie felt something like shooting stars of love go through his body. _Of course she wouldn't._ She never forgot. She never forgot and she always didn't think about it. How could he not see she had been his all along? How had he let her walk away from him? How had he, even for a moment, forgotten how much his heart belonged with her? How had he hurt her in his own lapse of judgement? When she had gone with him to Helen's after he'd spent the night there, why hadn't she screamed at him? Why had she pretended it was okay when it wasn't?

It was because she'd already started putting up walls. Walls against his actions, walls against the hurt. It was going to take a hell of a lot of work to rip those walls down, brick by brick, stone by stone. Because every time she said she was fine, every time she said she didn't want any emotional attachments, every time she pretended it didn't matter, he reacted by hurting her again.

Was he doing it intentionally?

Auggie didn't think so. He was reacting to his own failure, not anything of hers. He was reacting to all the anger he had towards himself. He was reacting to loneliness. He was reacting to his mental tailspin that he would never be enough for anyone, not really. The one-night stands, the women who all loved to flirt with him, the flirting he did back, all pointless. None of those women would ever be strong or willing enough to live as a blind man's partner. The one's that lasted long enough to see what it was really like, often started to feel angry about it sometimes. Sometimes they started to resent his blindness and in turn, started to resent him. He remembered one woman, Reneé, who actually got mad at him for not seeing things in front of himself and tripping over them. She told him he needed to be more careful and look where he was going. He'd been stunned. He'd told her if he could look where he was going, he wouldn't need the white cane and her sighted guide assistance. She was angry with him a lot after that. It didn't last long.

When had Annie ever had an issue with him not being able to see? Barcelona?

Auggie took the tray with the plates and glasses over to the coffee table. He slid it on the table top, feeling to make sure all the sides were not hanging off any edge, heading back for the pizza and two beers.

No, she hadn't had a problem at all with him being blind in Barcelona. What she had felt was not pity or anger or disappointment. He knew now exactly what it was, and when she had come back to him, her calming hands grounding him to her and safety, he knew it was more than her feeling sorry that he was her partner on this mission. She'd never once given doubts about his capability when they went in the field together. She'd given doubts to some of his decisions, and that was valid, but never any about his disability.

Auggie sat on his couch, and Annie fell beside him, putting the remote on the table.

"Found one?"

"I think so," Annie said, and she passed him a plate with two pizza slices on it. He opened both beers and handed one to her. It was an equal relationship. It always had been. They balanced each other perfectly, as Joan had said.

"Annie. About Monday." Auggie wasn't sure why he was bringing up her doctor's appointment.

' "We're not thinking about Monday," Annie said. "I don't want to think about anything but watching _Forrest Gump_."

"_Forrest Gump_?" said Auggie, a pretend sneer crossing his face.

"It's perfect," Annie sighed. "You can't tell me you didn't like Forrest Gump? Everyone loved it."

He grinned at her. "I _loved_ Forrest Gump. Start 'er up."

He didn't hear anything happening on the screen. He took a swig of beer and set it down.

"Auggie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I'm too spontaneous?"

"I think you are the right amount of spontaneous."

"I mean, do you think I am too rash?"

"Annie, you are you. You are who you are and it's how you are where you are. It has been an amazing characteristic in how you do your job. And you're good at it. You work on that spontaneity. It's an adrenaline for you, I guess. I plan everything to a T. Even if I tell no-one, I don't go in unplanned. I guess it's because of the military. They drill organisation into your head. And I guess it's because I'm blind. I need to plan, to be organised. You, you really fly when you're thinking on your feet."

"It's always been because you're in my ear. You're there to bounce ideas off of, to set my mind in a different radius."

Auggie smiled at her, putting his hand out and on her knee. "It's because we're a great team, Walker."

"I know," she whispered. "I don't know how to go back there."

"We can't," Auggie said simply. "And we don't have to. We can go forward. There could be something better for us. We have full-knowledge of our strengths and weaknesses. We know we need to come back to each other at the end of the day." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think all of our rough stuff started happening because we didn't go to Allen's. We stopped going and we stopped talking, and we stopped being honest. We didn't have time to be honest because we were too busy trying to run away from each other."

"I thought you loved Parker. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't listen to you go on about her, about the ring, about any of it."

"So you ran away and didn't come talk to me about Simon. And because you were running away, I kept it up. Ran my fist right in to some bastard's face."

"I remember that." Annie sounded both sad and quiet. "I truly am sorry for that."

"No, it's done and over, and I learned more about myself from that experience. And don't forget the counselling," Auggie said with a cheeky grin.

Auggie heard her giggle felt the weight of another slice of pizza hit his plate. His heart had stopped clenching at the idea that tonight was going to end too fast. Annie was okay tonight. Auggie was going to make sure that tomorrow, she would not take any steps backward into that place where he could not see her.

"We can't go back there, Annie, but we can start from here. We don't need to live on the heavy stuff. I want to remember the really good stuff. And I want to be happy. And I want you to be happy. I really think you were for a while there, with me."

"I was always happy being with you," Annie said, softly. "We are a team."

"We're a team in every way."

"Can I push _play_ now?"

Auggie laughed out loud, a burst of surprise spilling up from his belly. "Go on then. And eat up. We need to get you strong if you're going to take me on in the gym. I've a judo belt now, you know."

Annie pushed his chest in a motion that conveyed the exasperated smile that he couldn't see on her face and pushed the play button for the film to begin. They finished the pizza and the beers and Auggie put his arm around Annie and pulled her closer. He felt her lean against his side and he ran his finger along the strands of her hair. He could hear Tom Hanks talking about running and about Jenny, but it wasn't registering because the feel of her hair, her shoulder, her neck, and the rise and fall of her body as she breathed eclipsed the sounds that came from the television and the street. He turned his head and he kissed her forehead. It took all his restraint to let it go at that, but she didn't pull away. One step at a time. One step in the darkness.

"Come here," Auggie said, pulling her to her feet for a moment. He lay down and stretched the length of the couch, and he held his hand up to her, tugging her back to sit. She picked her feet up off the floor and put her back into Auggie's chest as Forrest Gump headed out with Lieutenant Dan to catch shrimp. He pulled her in tightly, putting his head down behind hers on a pillow and smelling in the scent of her hair as he combed through it with his fingers. They stayed like that for the entire film. Auggie didn't need to raise his head up over hers, because he didn't have to look at the screen. Annie felt no inclination to move out from under Auggie's hands, clutching her toward him. He knew she was going no-where tonight. She'd be here with him and in the morning, when they woke up, it would be two days of weekend where even he didn't have to leave the apartment if he didn't want to.

It was never perfect. But in its imperfection, it was more than perfect.


	11. Chapter 11

**The usual "I don't own Covert Affairs or any of its characters" but if I did, this is what would happen.**

Chapter Eleven

Annie had come back. Auggie listened to her cleaning up. She'd gone in the morning, saying she needed a bit of head room to get her thoughts together. It had not been a surprise, as the night before, she had been very quiet, and spent a lot of the time in Auggie's bathtub with magazines. Auggie had given her the space, and she'd chosen to stay, which kept his hopes strong. But when she left in the morning, his stomach set itself in knots and stayed that way for an hour or two. Then, as he tidied up the living room area, his hands stumbled upon Annie's sweater, and then a pair of her jeans. He smiled, and continued cleaning up, with the intentions to find more evidence that she was not gone for long. When he came across a pair of her boots tucked under the side table, he couldn't help the smile of relief that crossed his lips. And so he waited.

One thing Auggie was good at was waiting. He waited for transportation to drive him places. He waited for people to announce themselves to him. He waited for a guide to show him the way. He waited for a sales associate to come help him with his shopping. He waited for operatives to come back with intel. He waited for Annie all those years as her handler. He waited the years it took to realise that he wanted her in his arms. And then he waited months more to know that she would come back at all. And then, there was this last waiting, which was the most unusual kind of waiting. He was waiting for her to come back to who she was. And she was within his own arm's reach, but he had to wait.

Annie came out of the bathroom and he heard her pulling on the sweater she'd left. He heard her stop, and knew she was watching him as he stood at his island with his cutting board and a knife and some vegetables, preparing something for her to eat. He was still trying to keep her on some kind of normal schedule. He stopped momentarily, waiting for her to say something, but there was nothing. He took a breath and started working again.

"I'm going to make you eat at least one plate of food tonight, Annie," he said. "You left this morning and I bet all you had was coffee."

"I had a doughnut," she said softly.

"Not enough," he sang. When there was still no response, he turned his head, slightly. "Are you still in the room?"

"Of course."

"Annie?"

"It's okay. I'm okay, Auggie. This looks good. Do you need me to do anything?"

He smiled in her direction. "I need you to choose some music and then I need you to pour some wine and relax."

"I can do that," she said, and he could hear the smile through her voice, which made a soft smile cross his own lips. She found some music and put it on his turntable. A soft sax and some piano created enough colour to the scene that Auggie could even sense it made Annie relax. She poured the wine and guided his hand to the glass, and then took her own to his chair.

"You let me know if you need me for anything," she said, and he could tell she'd sat down or curled up on his couch with her wine.

"You can just watch and marvel at the skills I wave around here."

"I always do," she said.

"I was joking," he said. She'd replied so seriously that it worried him for a minute.

"I told you a long time ago that I find you oddly mesmerising."

"I seem to recall that."

"It's never waned, Auggie."

Auggie was puzzled. He sipped his wine and then he carefully slid all the vegetables into a big silver bowl. He checked the timer near his stove for the remaining minutes on the chicken. He'd even put a couple of potatoes in to bake, thinking the more food options he gave her, the more she might choose to eat. He remembered her delight about her own sister's baking and cooking, but she didn't even find cake of interest lately. However, this hadn't stopped Auggie from picking up a half dozen pastel frosted cupcakes from his favourite bakery as a sweet surprise for her for after.

Auggie pulled it all together, carefully and cautiously, never burning himself, barely making a mess at all. He let Annie watch him, which he usually felt uncomfortable about with most other people. He remembered Liza Hearn used to enjoy just staring at him, and he often wondered if she did it just because he couldn't stare back. He never felt like that with Annie. Annie didn't usually just sit and stare at him, though. He wondered if her mind was elsewhere as she sat there quietly watching him.

When he got the plates down, she came to stand beside him, offering to serve everything up while he shut the oven off and got the salt and pepper to take to the coffee table, where they'd taken to eating, cosied up informally. The music was perfect, and the wine was perfect. He hoped the food was perfect. He liked to think he was capable in the kitchen, though cooking had never been on his list of talents or hobbies, either before or after he'd lost his sight. It smelled good, and how could he possibly ruin a salad? He took the silver bowl to the coffee table as she set their plates there.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Everything looks wonderful." A pause. "Auggie?"

"Yeah?"

"What if it's more? What if it gets worse? What if I can't take care of it?"

Auggie put his fork down and faced her. "We'll take care of it." He chewed his lip. "You're scared, aren't you?"

"I can't be scared. I need to just get it taken care of. I need to be back in the field. I won't let this sit me on the sidelines." Another pause. "I don't mean it like that, Auggie. I... every time I say anything about it to you, I know I put my foot in my mouth. It's too close to you, Auggie."

"No, it's okay."

"You didn't have a choice. Everyone expects you to... I don't want people thinking I am incapable."

"Join the club."

"How do you do it?"

"What? Ignore people's ideas of me? Deal with not being in the field where I want to be? Deal with my own incapability on a daily basis?"

"How do you get past any of it? How did you? How did you come back from a war, a war that cost lives that didn't need to be lost, with all this baggage and hatred and learn to live again? How do you laugh again? How do you look into a future that has hope when all there is, is darkness? I mean, for you, literally... for me..."

Auggie dropped down off the chair and crept across to close in on her space. He reached out a tentative hand and found her right shoulder. He moved his hand to her neck, her cheek.

"It gets easier. It never goes away completely, but it gets easier. Annie, you have to let it go." He took a breath, knowing he was lost in trying to make his eyes peer into hers but he wanted her to see his feelings. "I had to let it go. I can't go back. No-one ever can. The decisions you made were the best at the time for you. You thought this was the only way to make it safe for all of us. And you made it safe. We're all still here. You're the only one that isn't. You need to come back to us, Annie, because you saved us for a reason."

"Were you scared to come back?"

Auggie laughed out loud. "Scared? Annie, that is a word that wouldn't even touch how I felt. I had more anxiety about coming back than I could ever let on. He was still out there. I was blind. I had zero confidence, and no clue what the hell I was supposed to do."

"You are more confident than anyone."

"Illusions and extroverted warfare. Inside, I was terrified. I thought I'd be seen as a pity case, relegated to the basements of IT, or that I'd be seen as a fraud, and that no-one would tolerate a blind guy trying to pretend to work with them in the big leagues." Auggie hated exposing this side of himself, he did not do it as a rule. It always felt safer to keep everything close to the vest. But Annie was a special case. Annie needed a different side of Auggie then he showed anyone else. She was taking her time to reveal her inner dæmons, and it was only fair that he show her the same vulnerability, to show her she was not alone in her sense of loss and loneliness. He puffed a breath and found her hand. "I'm still scared a lot of the time."

"You are?"

He shook his head at her in disbelief. "Of course I am. How could I not be? You realise I have to walk around out there in total darkness every day? I get turned around often and lose my bearings. You don't think that scares a person? I'll never be able to just make my way from here to there, because there is no _there_ until I get there and it becomes _here_. Does that make any sense? Everything out there is unknown to me. Unless it makes a noise or I can feel it, it is just nothing. Everything outside of this," he waved his hands around his body, "doesn't exist to me. You think that's not scary?"

"Auggie, you are so in control, you never lose your way. I've seen you walk around foreign cities with only a cane and your phone."

"Yeah. But do you see how many times I get stopped and asked if I need help? Do you see how many times I lose my bearings and have to go back and retrace what I _hope_ are my steps until I get it sorted out again? Outside the walls of the CIA, I am a blind man, a man with an obvious disability that most people are uncomfortable around, or pity. I don't want to be seen as some cripple who can't pick his own groceries or who gets lost going to the bar. And yet, every day, this happens. You think that doesn't bother me? It takes all I have some days to get out of bed and face it all again." Auggie fell silent. He felt angry at her for making him bare this to her, but he also felt grateful to say it to _someone._ Especially to her. He didn't like to confront these feelings on his own.

"You just have to keep getting up. Finding the good in the day. And, Annie, there's lots of good." He found her hand again. "You are the good in my day. You have never once thought of me as less. I haven't had anyone put me in equal standing with other men, other agents, until you came along."

"You're not in equal standing," Annie whispered to him, clutching his hand tightly, touching his face with her other hand. "You are miles above them."

"And you, Annie Walker, are right here with me."

"I want to be."

"There's no reason why you can't. Except you. You cannot keep thinking you need to be alone so no-one will be hurt. The person that hurts the most is you. You never need to be alone." He pulled her close, leaning in until his forehead rested against hers. "I don't want to be alone. I'm tired of waking up to face every day alone. It's tiring me out. And you, you're working harder at running from everyone than you would if you just stopped and let the world look after you for a while.

"Tomorrow, I'm going with you to the hospital. I will be there with you holding your hand when you get your test results. I will stand by you through whatever treatment you choose. But I can't do this if you choose to keep pushing me away."

Annie's hands were behind his neck. He could feel her fingers worrying his collar.

"I _am_ scared. I _do_ want you to come with me. I don't want to go alone."

"Then don't." Auggie felt her hands relax and he took the chance to reach around her tightly and pull her body tightly to his. She rested her cheek against his neck and did not let go.

_One more step closer. Patience. He would try anything because he would not lose her. She was the one thing he loved and would fight for before anything else._ Maybe she was starting to finally see that again. Maybe she was starting to see him again, the same way he was beginning to see her slipping back into the woman that he knew and had come to need in every sense of the word.


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I own no part of Covert Affairs or its characters. If I did, things would be a whole lotta different. I do own my imagination. And hence, this next part of my little story. Thanks to my Superawesomefantastic #CovertCrew, I'm trying not to let you down! **

Chapter Twelve

Auggie waited by the door, patiently. Annie was blowing around the apartment, apparently searching for something or still grabbing things to get herself ready, he wasn't quite sure. There was still a lot of time.

Annie had talked about everything, except the impending appointment or the condition that was taking her there. She had asked him about cases, mulled over McQuaid's involvement in them, told him about the time she and Danielle had made pancakes for their parents and made a mess on the ceiling trying to _professionally_ flip them.

Auggie knew what she was doing. He had done it for a long time after coming home from Iraq. He had avoided all possibility that things had changed. Annie didn't want to face any of the fears she had tucked deep inside. Auggie had faced his when he got tired of running. Annie was still running, and she didn't know how to stop.

Finally, he heard her come stand in front of him.

"You ready?" he asked gently.

"As I'll ever be," she said back, forcing strength into her voice.

He gave her an encouraging smile, and slid open the door. After he had locked it, he turned to head down the hall and he felt Annie's hand brush against his own. Almost a whisper. Since that first week at the agency, when they snuck into the morgue, and she had briefly forgotten to provide him any lead, she had never once failed to give him the availability of unspoken guidance. He had refused it a couple of times, but she never forgot to offer it to him.

He let his hand slide up her small, strong arm and grasped it above her elbow in their most familiar and comforting, if Auggie had to describe it, contact. They moved together as a team, Auggie one-half step behind Annie, his cane still folded in his right hand. He usually always used his cane, even when taking someone's sighted lead, but he remembered before, when trust was so firmly entrenched between the two of them, and he not only had not used his cane, he let her loop her arm through his in camaraderie and companionship. Total ease of movement. Somehow, moving along in empty space seemed safe and almost forgettable when he was in her contact. He didn't think about whether there was a curb or a hole or a tilt of the ground, because she never let him find the trip-ups on his own. She quietly led him out of all danger, and never broke the story she was teasing him with. He had found that strange, thrilling, and so right. It was a skill she had acquired just by being near him.

And he, in the same respect, had discovered he, too, was in tune with her. He wasn't sure how, but he could tell her footsteps, her perfume, her aura, hell, even her _breathing_, from anyone else's. She'd asked him about it several times, and he alluded that it was all trade secrets, but in all honesty, he had no idea how he could just _feel_ her there. With Joan, he'd become accustomed to her heels, her stride, he learned when she was coming. Mostly. But with Annie, it had happened straight away. He had her giggling, when he would wait for her to come off the elevator, and then follow behind, grinning like a Cheshire cat until she took his arm in hers. He knew it impressed her, cheered her up, and he liked to do it to get her to smile when she greeted him. He'd always wanted her to smile around him. He cracked jokes with her at the most inopportune moments, just to hear that smile, that laugh, that trust, in her words to him. The fact that he could ease her anxiety in those days had made him happy. The fact that he could not do it any more made him very, very sad.

She placed his hand on the passenger door handle of her vehicle. He kind of missed her little VW. It suited her. Or it had. Maybe this one suited her mysterious mechanical style now. He felt all the buttons on the door panel. He had no idea what was what. Complicated. Like Annie, Auggie thought.

"We could have called a cab, Annie. Or my car."

"No, this is fine, Auggie. Driving keeps me calm."

Auggie wracked his brain trying to think of something to say. He couldn't believe it had come to this. He had been able to engage in witty banter with her about nothing and everything in the past, and now he couldn't even come up with something to break the silence. He hated sitting in a car with no-one talking. He couldn't look out the window, he had to just sit there and dwell on it.

Annie leaned forward and turned on the radio. She'd remembered. Of course. He smiled, tucking his chin down, closing his eyes for a minute. If only she could remember the better days.

He felt her hand close around his and he reversed the hold, clutching hers, saying nothing. He waited. Sometimes he had to let others take the lead.

She parked and they got out of the car. Auggie trailed to the back of the vehicle and met her there. He opened his cane and took her elbow.

"This is going to be okay, Annie. We just face it like we do everything else. Together. Figuring it out."

"Okay," she replied.

"You don't have to be chatty or anything." He didn't get a response, so he shrugged with a half-hearted smile. "Come on. Let's get this over with, and then we can figure out what to do next."

The closer they got to the part of the clinic she had her appointment in, she slowed down. And then, she reached up with her free and took his hand from her elbow, transferring it instead to her hand, pulling him close, leaning on some of his strength. At the reception desk, she gave her name and took the form for information. She led Auggie to the hard plastic waiting chairs, but she couldn't sit still. Her knee bounced and she kept shifting her position. She tried to look at a magazine.

"It's my future," she whispered. "It's my future with the agency. It could be over."

"We'll figure it out. Maybe it's not. We don't know, Annie."

"Annie Walker?"

Auggie's head snapped up at the same moment he felt Annie tense and jump in her seat. He felt her stand and stood to join her, but she held her hand on his shoulder, keeping him still. He looked up at her, schooling his face into a question.

"I can do this. I'll be okay. Just… wait for me?"

"I'm not goin' anywhere." He held out his hand and she took it. He gave her a smile and a wink for added support. She squeezed his hand, sending him her thanks, and then pulled loose.

And so Auggie waited. He sat back, listening to the sounds around him, his thoughts on what the doctor might say to Annie. He tapped his cane against his thigh. Doctors. He'd had his fill of doctors. Doctors who gave him hope and doctors who took it away. Doctors who remained impersonal and detached. He disliked the whole affair. And here he sat, back in a hospital.

He wondered if there was somewhere he could get coffee. He hated having to locate something so simple. He thought about it for a bit. It meant going to ask the receptionist where there was a coffee machine. It meant trying to follow her directions, even though Auggie had no problem smelling coffee, even _bad_ coffee, if he came close to it. If it was a machine, he had to figure out where the cups were, the lids, the buttons, the coin slot, and that brought its own set of problems. It could take a long time and a lot of effort for a coffee. He sat back again. Damn it, he should have asked Annie before she went inside.

And there it was. Their teamwork. Everything together, to get the job done. He'd always worked with her, _for_ her. And as much as she forgot it, he had flown all the way to Hong Kong with her as her back up and her tech man. He was in it for her. And she fit his life so easily, making the hard stuff simpler. How could they have ignored this? How could he not have thanked her, and told her how much she gave to him that blindness had taken away? Every fear, every doubt he'd had about his effect on what had happened with his buddies in Iraq, the feelings his army friends, or how he felt about his guilt, she had taken away, piece by piece. He liked to keep things to himself, but he found that telling her the rough stuff and letting her listen changed his days profoundly. He missed it so much when she wasn't around him. He had been floating in a fog those months that Annie had been gone, before and after she'd shot Henry Wilcox. He doubted he could recount one meal or one day succinctly.

He thought he could smell coffee. There _had_ to be a coffee machine around here somewhere. He could just ask, _damnit._ He hated asking. He hated feeling like he was incompetent because he couldn't see a coffee machine if it was right in front of him. He debated. If he asked, it could be as simple as it being on the other side of the room. If it was out the door and down the hall and then through the double doors and in the alcove... Auggie sighed. He wouldn't make the receptionist take him. Or worse, go get him a coffee. He leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. He should have just asked Annie.

What would happen? His mind raced back around the loop to her condition. He hadn't witnessed her attacks, but they sounded pretty bad. It scared him more than he admitted. He tried to hold back, when she was telling him. She'd been so fragile to talk to, he was afraid to push her in case she cracked and didn't come back to him. He realised the seriousness of it as time went on. He'd looked the word up online: _Myocarditis_. There were too many different bits of information when it came to something hurting someone he loved. He couldn't glean what it meant for her future.

Auggie shook his head, dropping his hand from his face, sitting up again. He hadn't known what blindness would mean for his own future, and yet, it had worked out fine. Better, actually, than he would ever have expected. Had he still been able to see, he would never have become Annie Walker's handler. His old life had been exciting and fast and dangerous. His current life was just as exciting, but he'd left all that silliness behind when he met Annie. He'd tried to get the joy of women back in his life, but he was so half-hearted about it that he actually felt bad for Helen, Hayley, and Natasha. He'd tried to be _someone's_ boyfriend, but all he wanted was to be Annie's. When he had been assigned as her handler, he'd been given a whole emotional file of reasons why his life had turned out as it had. And he could put all that behind him, and trade it all for Annie.

He was tapping his foot. He hadn't even realised. He wanted to pace, but he wasn't sure the layout, and he could hear some other people further down. He didn't want to put a show on for them. He felt his watch. She'd been gone a while now. He wished he had brought his earbuds for his phone. At least he could listen to music or surf the Internet or _something, anything,_ to pass the time. He tried to not hear the low conversations about illness. He heard someone get up and walk across in front of him and then stop. No-one said anything, and then after a moment, the footsteps moved off again. Several minutes later, a voice to his right asked him if he needed any help, even though Auggie hadn't done anything to give the idea he needed anything at the present.

"No, thanks," Auggie said, through a forced smile. "I'm just waiting for someone."

"Oh. Okay."

Auggie was _not_ going to ask if there was a coffee machine from this one. Some people you just went out of the way _not_ to ask help from. It was okay. He didn't need coffee. He was jittery enough without it. He wanted this to turn out okay for Annie. He would be strong for her if it wasn't. He had it in him. He could let her lean on him if she needed to, and he would carry her if she couldn't stand.

He felt it. A warm, fuzzy aura, just off in front of him. He turned his eyes up to where he knew she was standing, staring at him. Was she happy? Was she crying? He stood, feeling such frustration at not being able to see her face and then knowing what to say. He stepped forward, holding out his hand.

"How did you know it was me," she said, her voice small, but curious.

"You should know better than this by now, Walker. I always know when it's you."

Without warning, as she had sometimes wont to do, she crashed into him with her arms around him fast. He recovered quickly and wrapped his arms tight to her. "What? What is it?"

"We can talk in the car." She pulled his hand to her elbow and started out of the clinic.

"Annie, wa-" Auggie had no choice but to follow her lead and hope she was okay until they made it all the way back to the vehicle.

It seemed shorter returning to the car than it had walking to the clinic. Auggie heard her close her own door and then he turned to her. "You'll tell me the truth, right, Walker?"

"The truth."

He put out his hand, needing her contact, to connect to her and feel her emotions through her touch. She took it.

"There are lots of reasons for it. They aren't sure where it came from. I could have gotten a virus when I was away, or when I was shot or in prison in Russia, or it may have been a reaction from a drug. They don't know. But there are treatments, different ones than the one I have been given."

"Safe?"

"Yes. Safe and... Auggie, he said some people recover. Some people come out with no serious damage and go back to their lives. Some people recover on their own."

Auggie, for a minute, felt anger toward her. She was trying to spare him the pain, and trying to put off feeling her own feelings. But then she put her hand on his cheek and leaned to him, pulling him in. He could feel her peering into his face intently, the way he could always feel her, somehow connecting to him outside vision.

"You're telling me the truth?"

"Yes, Auggie. Yes. They never gave me hope, they said it was damage that could cause a cardiac arrest. They never told me what that doctor told me. And he brought in another specialist. They both told me that I have a good prognosis."

Auggie could almost hear the tears of joy in her eyes. What she was telling him was that there was hope, and Auggie felt his own eyes well up with tears in the prospect. The mood in the car had shifted from fear and anxiety to hope and relief.

"I need rest. Lots of it. I'm to be admitted as an outpatient for treatment, starting Friday. I don't know, Auggie, I need to work."

"Nope. Not gonna happen. If it's rest you need, it's rest you'll have. I'll personally flood all hiring boards with bad news about your work ethic if you even try to look for work. And Joan will-"

"Joan has no love for me, Auggie. She's finished with me. And I quit, remember? I can't go back."

Auggie sighed, his hands still on her cheeks. "We'll figure it all out, but we get you well first. And from now on, Annie, you _talk_ to me. Remember when I said I never want to stop talking? I meant it, and I mean it now. We _need_ to keep talking. If we build walls, at least let's build them around the two of us together. I've learned that _together_ is our key. We seem to accomplish miracles when we work together. Why should we waste that?"

"I don't think we should," Annie replied.

"Then, work me a miracle and find me a coffee, will ya? Blind guy needs caffeine, STAT."

He felt her smile between his hands. It almost warmed them like sunshine.


	13. Chapter 13

**My whole day seemed to be occupied with Walkerson feels. I am so impatient for word on season six, and also worried, anxious, excited, and hopeful! I need Covert Affairs, I need season six, I need Annie and Auggie to be the endgame, and I need all my readers to read and enjoy and review this little continuation of my "one-chapter foray into fanfiction. **** I own no part of Covert Affairs or its characters, but they are welcome to come visit me at ANY time.**

CHAPTER 13

Annie was laughing. She was laughing so hard, Auggie thought she was going to choke, or maybe pee her pants. He was laughing, too, but not as hard as Annie.

Her laughter came straight from her soul, Auggie could hear the utter freedom of it. And it was infectious, simply because he could not see what it was she was laughing at. It was so ordinary, so silly, and so absolutely _normal_. They were making popcorn. Auggie had an old air popper from years before, which Annie had found in a low cupboard and cleaned out. Auggie remembered why he had not used it much after they had started making popcorn: the kernels popped _after_ they hurtled up out of the chamber into the metal bowl, which was being heated by the hot air blowing out of the unit. As they popped, they jumped out of the bowl, hitting Auggie and springing all over the island and the floor. And the more it repeated, the funnier Annie found it.

Finally, Auggie grabbed Annie, who was startled by the sudden movement of his arms snaking around her waist, and she screeched, laughing even harder as he pulled her back into his stomach, his elbow around her shoulders in a pseudo-take-hold. "You think that's funny?" he said, trying not to laugh as he said it, feeling Annie giggling as he held her. "You think it's funny that I'm getting bombarded with hot popcorn? Look at the mess!" He spun her around, giving her a view of what he imagined was escaped popcorn all over the kitchen. "What if I had been injured? A popcorn kernel in a blind man's eye isn't as funny as it sounds. Nor is that same blind guy trying to find every piece of stray popcorn in his apartment."

Annie spun around in his arms, looping hers around his back. "I'll help." She giggled again. "It was totally worth it."

"Was it?" He smiled at her. She seemed so relaxed, so oddly and wonderfully like his old Annie. She had taken a nap after they returned from the doctor's clinic, and had woken up in this exceptional mood. She had helped him to make supper, and they had tidied up together. Auggie had missed this domestic camaraderie since she had gone dark. They time they had been together, Annie had spent much of it at Auggie's place, and while Auggie was completely independent and capable, as a man, he appreciated having a women in his place, and as a disabled man, it was a comfort and a benefit that he couldn't even speak about.

"It really was," she said, the smile still evident in her voice for Auggie to hear. She stood, admiring him. "I feel better," she added.

"Then it _was_ worth it."

"There's hope. I'd kinda given up."

"I noticed."

"I mean for everything."

"That's what I meant."

"Oh."

"As for your heart, I meant what I said. The doctors say _rest_. I am keeping you to it. I don't want you to worry about anything. You've been worrying about too much on your own for too long. So. No. More. Worries. Stupid movies, good take-out, presentable home cooking, or at least, home-microwaving, those are what you will partake in. Online shopping, if you must." He felt her laugh. "Maybe call your sister? Whatever it is sisters can give each other, you need her right now, Annie."

"What about you?"

"I need you right now, too."

She giggled. "No, I meant, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to work in the morning. I will do what I always do, head up the tech crew." Auggie turned, finding the switch and turning off the air popper. Annie took the bowl of popcorn and added butter and salt, and carried the bowl to the living room area, putting it on Auggie's coffee table. He followed her with a couple of glasses of Coke.

He didn't tell her he was going to talk to Joan first thing. He had to fight for Annie's reinstatement when she was ready, the way Joan had fought for him. He would tell her when he was sure. No more secrets.

They watched the movie, eating popcorn, laughing, forgetting the bad. When the popcorn was gone, Auggie put his arm around Annie, and she snuggled in under it. He forgot when she was out on a mission, how small she was tucked into his side.

This felt so right. It was as though all the battles he had fought in his life had been made worth it for this moment in time, this _now_. He couldn't believe his luck. She was here. She was here and she was happy. She was ready to accept some love, some care, just a little at a time. She had told him she wanted to be here. She wanted to be here, she wanted to be with him, and there was a good chance that she would recover from her illness with no after effects. It couldn't get more perfect at the moment, and Auggie was not going to think further ahead. He felt her skin under his fingers, the heat from her body, and how her chest rose and fell with her breathing under his arms. He couldn't stop touching her, just lightly, running little caresses along her arms and shoulders, taking in her presence there in his home and his life. He needed to keep reminding himself she was there, he was not imagining her. She'd been gone for so long, it had become habit that he reached out for her only to remember she wasn't there.

She was here now. She was giggling at something he had missed. He had stopped paying attention to the movie, his senses zeroed in on Annie's being there beside him.

"They're dressed like priests," Annie said, turning to him.

"What?"

"You're not paying attention, are you?"

Auggie smiled. He didn't want to have to tell her his thoughts. "I kind of went away there. It's okay. They're dressed like priests now?"

It was so _normal_. There was indeed a normal, Auggie thought, refuting his own words. There was this, and he had realised that this was exactly what he wanted more than anything.

"Joan-"

"Auggie. It's out of my hands."

"It wasn't out of your hands when you brought me back."

"I was DPD head. I wanted you for my new tech crew head. Plus, Arthur was the one to go to. I have a way with him."

"Oh, I know _that_, trust me."

"But now, Arthur isn't the one to go to."

"Calder."

"Maybe it's time Annie took a look at her life."

Auggie had not felt it his place to tell Joan about Annie's new prognosis and treatment, but now he changed his mind. His laser cane alerted him to the chair in front of Joan's desk and he found it and sat.

"Maybe... she has," Auggie said, waiting. He heard Joan walk to the chair behind her desk and sit.

"What are you saying, Auggie?" Joan leaned forward, taking in Auggie's stiff upright frame and the look of intention on his face. "Tell me what you mean? Where is Annie?"

"She's okay, Joan. Maybe better than just okay. It's looking hopeful."

"How?"

Auggie took a breath and put his hands on his knees and started telling Joan exactly what Annie had told him. He told her about the treatments, he told her about the dangers, he told her about valve replacements, and he told her about the percentage of patients that completely recovered on their own. He told her his suspicions of the drug used to keep her unconscious after Calder "shot" her, his idea that it had been tainted, maybe unintentionally. Or something that she had contracted when she was in Hong Kong alone, or even as far back as those horrible days when Lena was trying to take Annie out. Maybe the damage had started then and not appeared until Annie had a chance to fall without the need to keep going until her mission to take Henry Wilcox down was finished. He told Joan how hard Annie had tried to just keep going, how much she wanted to work, how disappointed she was with how things had turned out. He wasn't sure how he had let it happen, but it seemed easier to talk to Joan about Annie than it did about himself. And he knew he could trust Joan with this. She had no reason at the moment to take it further, and Auggie needed to persuade her with every gun he had.

"I know you care for her-"

"No, Joan. I love her."

"Ah. So it's come back to your feelings for her." Joan kept a smile from her face and her voice.

Auggie took her words seriously, as he heard them. "It's more than that. It's what _she_ wants, Joan. I can't go up against that. I know how she feels. I know how much being out there, the adrenaline of it, of making all the pieces come together in a successful mission, a win for the team. I can't take that away from her. When she's better-" Auggie shook his head swiftly. He was a realist as well as a romantic. "If she gets completely better, I support whatever she needs to do. I have to, Joan. I can't make her stop."

"Does this have anything to do with her being your operative? Her being in the field kind of keeps you there, too, in a way."

Auggie sighed, dipping his head. "It does, in a way. But you know you have plenty of operatives to give me to handle. I'm connected to the field as long as I'm here. I'm good at it. And so is she. I was taken out of it with a slam of a door, and she has a chance to go back. I'm going to take care of her until she has enough strength and support to make that decision. I had decision taken away; I'm not going to do the same to her."

Joan came around the desk and put her hand on Auggie's shoulder. "You never stopped loving her. That's good. I knew it. I seriously thank you for coming to me, Auggie. For telling me. For now, you just look after her. Keep her rested, like she is supposed to be, and I'll figure something out, if the time comes."

"When," Auggie said. "When the time comes. You know Annie. She's pretty determined."

Joan smiled, giving Auggie's shoulder a shake. "That she is." She dropped her hand and sat against the desk. "I must admit, I really miss her. I always missed her. She's good, Auggie, we both know that. And with all this going on with Belenko and the bombing, it's a hard time for the CIA. We need operatives with Annie's credentials. And you know Calder is in alliance with us about her. She's too good. But she's cocky, and she's lying to us, to you and to me. It makes her risky. Until that is taken care of, until her medical issues are looked after, there's nothing that I can do. Keep her safe, keep her stong, Auggie. If she can come back from this, she's going to have to be strong and know that she has people with her, a family _here_. She can't run from us anymore."

"I know. I am working on that."

"Then that is your main operation to make happen. Keep me posted on your accomplishments there."

Auggie laughed. "Thank you, Joan." He stood, and Joan watched him go, smiling, feeling pleased that things were going how she had hoped. She had hoped just the night before, holding Mac in the nursery, that Annie could have the chances that Joan had been given.

"Annie?" Auggie slid open his door, turning his head to listen for any sounds within.

"I'm here, Auggie, in the kitchen."

"Something smells good." Auggie put his keys, bag, and cane on the credenza and turned towards her, moving, his hands out, searching for her. She let him find her easily enough, and he nuzzled her ear.

"I made you something for a change." Annie was sounding pleased with herself.

Auggie grinned. "A man could get used to this."

Annie surprised him with a kiss that he wasn't expecting. He grinned. "A man could get used to that, too."

"I want you to know how much I appreciate you looking after me," she said.

"I'll always look after you."

"I know." Annie took his hand, holding it in hers, touching his long fingers, and admiring it as she thought about her next words. "I want to look after you, too. If you'll let me."

Auggie felt a moment of surprise. She was asking his permission to let her look after him. She had been in his care on all those missions; he had been the one to look after her, to bring her home. She knew how he hated to rely on anyone, to let anyone take care of anything in his life. And here she was, asking for him to do just that.

"It's as hard for you as it is for me, isn't it?" Annie ran her fingers along his. "Maybe even harder?"

Auggie turned. "It's not about me right now."

"You have as hard a time to give up your own independence."

"Annie. I think we both have a lot to work on."

"I think we need to just keep talking." Annie put Auggie's hand on her waist and he took the other hand and placed it on her back, pulling her close, feeling her lithe body under his touch. She always gave him permission to see her as he needed to. She alone gave him sight through his four other senses, in a way no-one else ever had. And she alone didn't hate that she had to do this all the time for him. It made him wonder how he had ever thought someone else would be able to do this the way Annie did.

"I think that is the best idea you've had tonight. Well, after the cooking idea, of course."

"I have another idea," Annie said, running her hands up and down his strong arms.

"You do?"

"Yeah. But it doesn't involve much talking."

Auggie smiled at her, and he could almost feel her glowing. "I think time-off to rest has made you a brilliant inventor of ideas."

"You haven't heard my idea yet."

Auggie could hear the teasing in her voice. It was something he had not heard in a year. It was the way she had spoken to him for so long before he realised that she meant it as more. He could not keep the grin from his face as he reached down, feeling for the hem of her T-shirt and lifting it over her head, and when her response was to lock her lips to his, Auggie's heart and mind leapt into a state of pure, grateful joy.

The food would have to wait.


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this, and a big special THANK YOU to the reviewers that keep my writing-fires burning. It's been a long, angsty journey to this point, but guess what? They love each other and I can't keep them apart any longer. And if the CA writers are smart, they won't either! PLEASE RENEW FOR SEASON SIX! I am having serious Auggie withdrawal, even with all the rewatches. And, without further ado, I will once again proclaim to not own any of the CA enterprise, but I always welcome the characters to come join me in my imagination. And I also welcome you guys to come join, too!  
**

Chapter 14

It was as it had been before, their bodies fit together in perfect, harmonious balance. Auggie's fingers traced over Annie's features, her shoulders, her hips. Annie's eyes followed them, watching them as one would watch a ballet, glancing at his face now and again to see the desire and absolute joy of her painted so boldly across his features.

There were moments that were so tender, the passion so overwhelming, Auggie was sure he was in a dream. And then, to make him realise how alive Annie was, how alive he was, there were moments of pure laughter, where the world lifted up and left them free for as long as the sound of laughing filled the room and danced around the bed.

Auggie remembered every nuance, every subtle shade, tone, note, and texture his fingers picked up. For a moment, when he thought about how it _wasn't_ her in his bed, in his arms, it made him feel sad and disappointed with himself. There was no-one before or after Annie who could fit so easily into every part of his life. He could even talk about where he worked with her, and that would always be one less thing to have from his list of reasons not to be in a relationship at all.

Annie's lips kissed him behind his ear and took all the thoughts out of his mind. There was _now_.

When Auggie came out of the bathroom, he could hear Annie on the bed, eating something.

"Food in the bed?" he groaned.

"I think we defiled the bed so much it doesn't matter what happens here now," she told him, patting the spot beside her so he could hear. "Come'ere."

Auggie slid onto the bed, holding his hand up, just in case she was handing something to him. He felt a cold block wrapped in damp paper. He felt its rectangular shape, and smiled when he figured it out. "Where did you get ice-cream sandwiches? I didn't have those, did I?" He unwrapped it and took a bite.

"No. It was an emergency purchase when you were at work."

"An emergency, huh?"

"Oh, definitely."

Auggie had missed this tone in her voice, this sexy, growly, teasing voice that turned him on. Ice-creams finished, he snatched up her fingers and kissed them one by one, and as the CD repeated one more time, just as Annie and Auggie were so perfect together as a team in the field, they made it beautifully clear that they were perfect together physically and emotionally as well.

In the afterglow, Annie lay in Auggie's arms. Auggie's hands always moving, always seeing, softly stroked her hair, her shoulders, and he kissed her neck lightly.

Annie rolled over, looking at him. He kept his fingers tracing her shoulder blade, the softness of the skin, and waited.

"I want to make your life better. Easier." Auggie could hear the honesty in her voice. "I want to, but I don't think I do."

Auggie was incredulous. "Are you kidding me? Annie, I've never met anyone since I lost my sight that makes my life so much better." He shook his head, and kept his fingers trailing along her shoulder and neck. Now was the time to tell her how amazing she really was for him.

"From the first day I met you, Annie Walker, you thrilled me. I'd spent two years explaining what had happened, what I needed, what I didn't need. I was still a bit raw inside. Defensive, maybe. Trying to prove myself and inside, not being able to prove it _to_ myself. And there you come along, and all of a sudden, I'm barefoot on a gurney in the morgue on your unsanctioned mission. My capabilities were not questioned." Auggie's voice was soft. "Ever."

"I don't ever doubt you, Auggie."

"Yeah, and I wonder if you should sometimes. But you deal with my issues so... incredibly, mind-blowingly easily. You don't dance around it, you don't ever dwell on it, you always have just talked to me like a person. And yet, somehow, you never really forget the stuff I need. And you just make it okay."

"Isn't that what you want?" Auggie could hear the teasing in her voice. "Would you rather I start making a big deal about you being amazing? Because I can."

Auggie laughed. "You are exactly what I want. I thought... for a long time, that it was because I was blind, a liability, that you, in the end, were frustrated with me, that first real mission in Barcelona."

"It wasn't."

Auggie sighed, giving her a half-smile. "I know that _now._ And it amazes me even more, because that _wasn't_ your first thought. All the times I was with you, and we were in danger, you weren't scared because I was a liability."

"I never thought you were."

"Annie, I have had women who don't think I am capable at eating or enjoying a movie."

Annie laughed, but her laughter soon cut off. "You're serious?"

"Uh, yeah. Imagine there are people in the world who don't think I am capable at doing anything. Imagine those people can't even understand how I can enjoy anything or be happy."

"Auggie-"

"It sucks, Annie. And I don't even like to talk about it, but it's real. God, I had one woman that asked me how I knew where my feet were so I could put on my socks."

Annie really laughed this time, but again, she was cut short by the expression on his face. He felt her fingers touch his cheek and he sighed and smiled at her.

"Every day, I thank my lucky stars that I met you, and that you are you. When you changed, when you weren't you, I was so scared, because I've never met anyone who just _is_, around me. I never like to talk about that part. I never like to talk about what sets me apart and makes me different, but obviously, I can't dance around the subject because it is right here, in plain sight... if you will." He gave her a sheepish grin. "And you come along and... _damnit, Annie_, you just immediately accepted it, you learned my needs without any questions or qualms, and then that was that. From then on, it was me you talked to, _me_, not my disability, not someone standing beside me, not who you _thought_ I should be. Just me. I can not walk away from that. Ever. How would I find that again?"

"Did... she really ask you how you put on your socks?" Annie asked.

Auggie rolled his eyes and grinned. "Yeah. She really did."

"Wow."

"Yuh."

Annie leaned up and kissed him. "Stupid girl," she said. "Doesn't know what she's missing." She kissed him again. "You've always been more than capable any time I have needed you. I have never had a reason to doubt your abilities."

"That's what I mean. You don't doubt me going in. They do. I have to prove it to them, but you..."

Annie cut him off with another kiss. "I get it. I do. Auggie, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a woman."

Auggie gave her a cocky smile. "Yeah, I've kind of noticed that," His fingers followed her sternum down to her breast.

"I get that, too. They don't think I can do the task because I am a woman. The only reason I think I was given so much trust and push was because Joan knows that same feeling."

"Ah, Joan." Auggie pulled Annie into his side as he laid back. "She is the strong supporter of the capable underdogs, isn't she?"

"Not any more."

"That's where you are wrong, Annie. She _is_. She's fighting for you as we speak."

"What?"

He could feel her moving, sitting up slightly to look at his face. "She's on your side, Annie. She just... she doesn't know how to deal with you right now. None of us did. She wants you on our team, she always has. Remember her saying that we were your family? It's true. She needs you on her team, and she has a hard time telling anyone that. She seems harsher than she intends, I think. She wants the best for people she cares about. She was forever telling me to move on with my life and leave the other stuff behind and not dwell on it. I resented a lot of it, but she was only doing it because she believed in my capabilities and wanted me in her DPD team as the best tech crew head she could find to lead. She wasn't being unkind. She wanted me to be happy, to be content. And then, in the end, after all her patting on the back that I wasn't fit for field work, she sent me on several sanctioned missions. With you. With _you_, Annie. I mean, if she thought either of us incapable, unfit for field action, you because you're a woman, me because, well, I have a bit of a vision problem, she wouldn't have picked us for some of the big ops we've been sent out on. Together." Auggie sighed. "I know I'm not going on missions like I did when I could see, who would think that was a great idea? I know I have limits. I know I can't just go running out on a mission and get the intel, make the marks, do all the stuff I used to be able to. But, well, when I am with you, I can. I can do what I am good at, I'm free to do it when I am with you. You take care of the other stuff, the stuff I can't. You look out for me." He paused, thinking back. "I remember Joan told you to come with me to Datatech, to _be my eyes_. And you have been ever since. You do _not_ know how much it means to me that you do this, without any prompting from me, I never have to ask, to beg, to plead."

"It's only fair," Annie said, in a small voice.

"Annie. You are..." And there were no words for how Auggie felt at that moment, feeling her warm body pressed into his, hearing her soft breathing, her supportive words, smelling her scent, a heady mix of body heat, roses, spices, and sunshine. He felt his eyes mist up, not knowing how to tell her how incredibly amazed he was at his luck at being in bed with her, talking with her, holding her, tonight, every night, all nights to come.

"I wouldn't trade any of this," he said. "I need you in my life. Everything that has happened to me, to you, has brought us right here. And we get it. I'm okay with everything as long as this is how it turns out. I accept everything as long as you're right here beside me."

"It's not easy," Annie said, pushing him a bit further.

"Of course it's not. But we have each other. Right?"

Annie clutched his hand. "We have each other."

"Good. So from now on, together, we're going to figure it all out. It's going to be okay, Annie. I know this now. I didn't for a long, long time."

Annie snuggled down beside him, letting him wrap his arms around her. It was going to be okay. They'd face everything together now, starting with her illness, her recovery, her career, and his disability and all it entailed, and there would be love to come home to.

As Auggie relaxed nearing slumber, he heard Annie mumble, "I can't believe she asked you how you put on your socks," and Auggie fell asleep with a very contented smile on his face.


	15. Chapter 15

**I debated. Trust me, I debated. It seemed like such a good place to end this at my last chapter, but I just can't do it to you guys who have been reading and giving me such awesome, muse-pumping feedback. **_**AND**_**, I know there aren't many Walkerson fanfics in the line-up at present, and I cannot have that. We need Walkerson fics like we need air, yknowwhatImsayin'? So I am forging on, and maybe I can rework the last 6 if we aren't overly pleased with them upon viewing. Keep up the faith, Walkerson shippers. I know I am!**

**And, as per all legality issues, Covert Affairs is not owned by me, but by the USA Network, which is taking its sweet old time letting us know if we get to watch season 6 on-screen, or if we have to create one ourselves.**

Chapter 15

The treatments took their toll. The inotropes, ACE inhibitors, and cardiac glycosides made Annie tired, sick, and not able to care for herself. It was hoped that the coronary arteries were normal and the ventricles were functioning well despite the inflammation of her heart.

Auggie made arrangements for Annie's personal things to be brought over to his apartment. He was going to look after her properly this time, and she was too weak to fight him on it. She slept much of the day, and Auggie often came home to a quiet apartment. He would remove his shoes after putting his things on the credenza, and he would make his way carefully across the floor to the stairs, ascending them into the soft, sweet air that surrounded her. He could hear her breath, even and calm, and it made everything about his apartment right. The detail in his surroundings that had been missing was the sound of her breath.

Smiling, he moved to his bed, sitting carefully on the edge, sliding his fingers across the sheets, seeking her. His hand touched her arm, outstretched on the mattress, and he followed it up to her shoulder. She was on her side, her knees pulled into her chest, the other arm tucked up against her body. Auggie felt her hair splayed out on the pillow behind her, and his fingers stroked the softness of it.

He heard her breathing change, but she didn't speak. Auggie smiled. "Hello," he said, quietly.

"Hi," she said, the sleep heavy in her voice. "How long have you been here?"

"Just long enough," he said.

"You were looking at me," Annie said, "while I slept."

"Hope you don't think that's creepy."

"From you?" Annie traced his hand with her fingers. He waited for the joke, but nothing came.

"It's not, is it?" Auggie focused his gaze toward her.

Annie couldn't answer him directly, because she was caught up in looking at his face, his eyes, his love for her, and even more amazing, his utter care for her so obviously written there.

"Is everything okay?" he asked her, concern lacing his words. She was sitting there so quietly, staring at him, maybe keeping something from him that she didn't want to share.

Her next words were formed through her radiant smile. "Everything is more than okay. I just woke up to the touch of a sexy blind guy in his bed." Her grin was evident and catching. He returned it back to her with a chuckle, and then pulled himself back against the headboard, hugging her in under his arm. She draped her arm over his middle and leaned her head against his chest.

"You are going to be okay," Auggie said to her, his conviction to the statement plain to hear. "And we are going to be okay."

"I'm hungry."

Auggie laughed out loud. "Now that is a good sign." He sobered up. "It's like you had forgotten how to eat. I was worried about you."

"You gave me my appetite back. In more ways than one."

Auggie winked at her. "Well, if you want to work one appetite, you'd best fortify yourself with the other."

"Cute."

"I am. Now what's say we figure out something to eat and then have a rousing game of chess. Or Braille Monopoly. Or Backgammon. I've got 'em all, name your poison." He heard her laugh. He would never get tired of hearing that sound, here, in his apartment, with just him.

Just him. He had won her favour, in the end. _Auggie_. _Dork, nerd, perpetual ladies' man_, which meant he was never forever _one_ lady's man. _CIA officer. Cad. Blind_.

She'd chosen him. She'd chosen to come home with him. To try again. And all because she felt the same amazing connection that he did.

"Well," Annie said, "that sounds like quite a night."

"I really know how to live it up," Auggie said, pulling himself off the bed. "Shall we order in? Or I could run down to the Cantonese take-out. I could make you something, if you're feeling brave."

"Did Joan say anything?"

"Joan? Whoa, Annie, let's get this food thing under control. You don't need to worry about Joan right now. Okay? Joan is fine. You two can talk when you're both ready."

"I wanted to take Belenko down, Auggie. I wanted to fix things. Maybe if I fixed things-"

"Annie? Don't do this. You don't need to fix everything. It is not all up to you."

"I don't want what happened to them to happen... to you. I don't want to hear about an explosion in Langley that takes down the people I love. I need to... make sure this doesn't happen."

"You did this with Wilcox. And look where that put you. You disappeared from the world. You think it is up to you to protect us. We have other people, Annie, good, trained, skilled operatives. We will get Belenko. And I told you," Auggie turned to the stairs as he spoke, "the only thing you are allowed to concentrate on fixing is you. I'm not going to let you come to work with me, even in your head." As he made his way down his stairs, he grinned. "Braille Monopoly, remember?"

Behind him he heard an exasperated sound like laughter and the word _groan_, and his smile deepened across his whole face. He was not going to let her worry herself to her death. She needed a break and that was the only route Auggie was going to take.

He heard her soft footfalls coming down the stairs and coming close. He faced her direction and gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

"Can we go out? Like, not special, just... out?"

"Of course we can. I guess I can hold the tux this time."

He felt Annie's arms loop around him. "I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you if you put that tux on."

"Well save it for later, then," Auggie said quickly, and kissed her a few times for good measure.

"I should probably change myself. You are looking pretty fine there." She adjusted his collar and curled her fingers around the top of his vest.

"Well, I try."

"I know, you look good enough for the both of us," Annie giggled.

"Oh, so you _were_ paying attention."

"I've always paid attention to everything about you," Annie admitted to him.

Auggie narrowed his eyes at her. He was going to say something and then stopped, thinking a moment.

"You don't have to say it, Auggie."

"It's all about now, Annie. No regrets. Just now. Now, go get dressed. We can walk down and see what looks interesting. It's nice out tonight, not too cold, no wind. A good night for a stroll."

He listened to Annie retreat to the bedroom where she had hung the clothes he had had brought from her place. He hoped she would take his words seriously and leave the bad guys to Langley.

Fifteen minutes later they were walking out the front door and into the night. Auggie noticed the change in Annie's body as they walked. Her posture became less slumped, her step became lighter, and every now and then, she would reach up to where he clutched her elbow, and she would pat or squeeze his hand, as if to make sure it was really there. She didn't talk much, so Auggie worked his magic by making her laugh. If his only job was to make her laugh, he would put his every breath into it, he would give everything else up, and he would be content.

Annie stopped. "Sandwiches."

"Sandwiches?" Auggie was puzzled. "You buried the lead there."

"This place makes sandwiches."

"Oh. And you want sandwiches?"

"I feel like I want sandwiches."

Auggie shrugged with a well-placed grin. "Then we'll have sandwiches," he said, and followed as Annie led him into the little café. They took a booth in the front corner, behind the window, and the young waitress who came with ice water and tea also was able to scrounge up a Braille menu, which pleased Auggie. It didn't happen in a lot of places, and when Auggie found a place that had one, as well as decent food, he felt compelled to give them his patronage.

Annie watched Auggie, having already decided on her order, as he perused the choices on his menu. His long fingers scanned quickly over the Braille, so deftly, so sensitively. She remembered the times he felt her skin, her features, and her every detail with those fingers in the same way. She had remembered his touch all those months she hid away from him, scared, angry, lost, and it kept her walking, kept her waking, kept her going. She'd been angry, at him, at herself for pushing him so far away. She had pushed him away to save both of their feelings, and everything had gotten worse, more convoluted. It was not supposed to be worse. As she watched his hands, she saw it was simple. Go with the heart. She followed his form up to his face. His head was tilted forward, his eyes closed, as he concentrated on his order. She stilled herself. She had turned him away, this man who had given everything for her, and would keep doing so, and he was still here. She wasn't foolish enough to make that mistake again.

The server came and took their menus and their orders, and Auggie took a sip of his tea, ready to muse about the surroundings, but Annie spoke.

"I'm calling Danielle. Tomorrow. I'm telling her everything. I mean, everything I can. I'm scared, Auggie. I've hurt her. I will hurt her again with this. I can't not tell her, but I know she won't speak to me again. She may hang up on me."

"I'll talk to her if you want."

"I don't think you're going to fare any better. She has wrath, Auggie. She probably won't ever let me see the girls again. And all I've thought of is them, them and you, and-"

"Hey," Auggie said, putting his hands, palms up, across the table. "You have me. It's going to be okay. We'll get through this one, too. Annie, you need her, especially now. She'll come around. I've seen her up and throw you out of her house in her anger. She loves you Annie, she won't turn her back on you. You forget that you are all she has for a sister, too. It goes both ways."

He heard Annie take in a big breath of air and puff it out. "How do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Have such persuasive pep-talks."

"I've had a few myself."

She squeezed his hands tighter.

"We're making it through, Annie. It'll get easier. Trust me on that one."

"Did you ever want to give up?"

Auggie knew she meant the time after his injury, when it seemed like his life had ended and he could not find a way to live it in darkness. He hated to bare how scared, how angry, how frustrated, how absolutely terrified he had been those months after.

"I did."

"But you never did."

"I did a few times."

"What happened?"

"Drank a lot. Slept a lot. Cried a lot. Stayed in bed, kept myself separated from people I loved. Every day, I figured I would just make it through that day and then maybe off myself tomorrow. I just wanted to see if that day made it any better. After a while, I smartened up. Got myself together a bit, and put myself into the game again. And the days _did_ get better. And the more I opened up to it, the more I learned, which made the next day easier to imagine without the idea of taking myself off the board."

"And you're still here."

"And I'm still here." Auggie gave her a little smile that travelled up from his mouth to his eyes. How he expressed so much from those eyes that didn't see, Annie didn't know; she just knew that everything inside her warmed from it.

"And you're still here," Auggie added, and leaned back as he heard the server bring their sandwiches. He could smell the French fries and the freshly toasted bread, the tomatoes and the pepper in a delightful blend of home cooked goodness.

"Sandwich is cut in half, it's at your nine, and there are fries at your three. The ketchup is in the middle of the table, if you want it. Do you need anything?" Auggie could hear her taking up her utensils, just comfortably giving him the lay-out without any pretention.

Auggie felt the edges of his plate for a napkin, and, finding it, he unfolded it and placed it on his lap. There could never be enough napkins when one was blind.

"I have everything I need," Auggie said simply.


End file.
